Dead Affairs of the Lonely Heart
by SadieMichelle
Summary: Paige definitely meant to save his life, no matter how much of a last second decision it was. What she didn't expect, however, was the reluctant gratitude he carried that would only go away once the debt was repaid. Good thing Daryl is a persistent man.
1. Grass Fox

**I am a huge fan of the Walking Dead. Obviously, right? Or else I wouldn't be writing this. The entire show has a slew of characters I love, one in particular who fascinates me as well as cracks me up. Daryl Dixon. Played by the beautiful Norman Reedus. I am aware that his character has a strange relationship with Carol and he may potentially die this season. I am aware that I may upload chapters that will contradict the way the season is going. Firmly understand that. But this has been sitting in my brain for awhile and I truly want it written just to see what happens. It is unbeta'd, as all my stories are. It is also set after the events of S1. The group has already gone through the highway, grabbing supplies, but they never lose Sophia. Instead, they find shelter further back from the city, in a former camp ground, and are able to rebuild again. The events in the story takes place perhaps a month later. And one final thing. I am aware of how many OC and Daryl stories there are. And how repetitive the storylines and characters can be. I have attempted to separate my character from everything I've read so far as well as make the relationship between herself and Daryl rather unique. Also, I am interpreting Daryl in my own way. This means you'll have access to his thoughts and they may be more personal than what's on the show. But this is FF. It's dessert for us authors who are inspired by characters. So, I guess you'll either like the way I write him or you won't. Otherwise, I'm glad you at least took the time to read this. Enjoy!**

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**Prologue**

Paige never hovered in the same area for more than two days. That was the maximum. That _was _the #1 rule of survival in this new world. You keep on moving forward, blast some walkers into kingdom come along the way, then continue the journey on. No stopping to remember all you've lost and no crying.

That _was_ key. Crying would force your body to stop, to pause, to cease and lower your guard. Through the tears, one remembers the pain. That was unacceptable.

NO crying.

With an outdated M24 sniper in hand, she submitted each stretch of land she ventured through. Walkers kept their heads for approximately seven seconds before Paige blasted them off. Once, she'd even gotten two walkers with one bullet. Or she thought she did. Might have just been a starvation induced hallucination.

How she had the talent to accurately lodge a bullet from more than 200 hundred yards away, into the head of a walker stumbling dumbly through two thick tree trunks, was just as lost on her. Perhaps her cousin Ronnie's aggressive isolation into the world of Call of Duty hadn't been completely harmful.

Whatever it was, she recognized her ability to kill as something of a gift in these trying times, especially since she'd been very anti-NRA before the current state of the world.

She remembered how it had first felt to pick up the sniper. Like the weapon had buzzed in her hands, understanding how special the bond would come to be between itself and the user. Cold, hot, sizzling, icy - all at the same time. Something happened when her palms, a calloused tan by this point, wrapped around the weapon. Something important.

Why Paige took the sniper when there were hundreds of various weapons to loot, again was one of those fickle mysteries. But ever since she'd swiped it up in the middle of a panicked street dead square in walker-ridden Atlanta, they could not be parted. It was like a friend she'd lost in kindergarten, just to rediscover them ten years later.

It was with her sniper and the disregard for rule #1 that would come to change Paige's life.

Of course it'd be imprudent to claim it hadn't already been changed multiple times. Parents dying in a car crash. Pregnancy scare her junior year of college. Zombie apocalypse. Near end of the human race. Getting her damn period on the very same day.

One gets the jist.

But on one blazing, Georgia afternoon, something occurred that not even Paige, a college whiz and self proclaimed pessimist, could understand the significance of at the time. It happened so quickly she'd barely payed any mind to it. Just a natural reaction to the scene before her.

She'd have never guessed it at the time that her life was going to change because of her actions. She was a wanderer. Rule #1 had to do just as much with logic as it did with her personality. Throughout life, she was pleasant, but distant. Experiences around her taught this to be a safe tactic.

So, it's quite lucky how unaware she remained. Blissfully, in fact, of how life would soon change. For the better, of course. She couldn't afford for it to get any worse.

And thus began Paige's journey into a decaying world where the happiness she thought herself so undeserving of, smacked right into her.

Trouble is...will she notice it in time?

**Chapter 1 - Grass Fox**

Paige inhaled carefully, ignoring the sheet of sweat threatening to trickle down and disturb her vision. She switched positions to her opposite knee with the sniper - nicknamed Winston - perched in between two rocks before her. The narrow length of the weapon fit perfectly in between the stones, and offered little detection to the person she was observing.

For the past day, she'd maneuvered through the very same grasslands she knelt in currently, undetected save for a few walkers. Her primary goal was to rid a few from the area. Nearby tracks in the plain indicated firm, human footsteps to have wandered through. The trick was killing the undead humans as opposed to the dead.

But more importantly, the area was solitude at its finest. And on the previous day, there certainly were no humans.

Until now.

Her hand shook as the heat continued to soak into her clammy body. Only the remembrance of having survived worse, calmed her.

The figure she currently observed, was on one knee in the middle of a meadow. Or what once was a meadow a long time ago.

Now, it was unkempt with weeds having invaded the area like a fungi and wild grass running rampant over the once fertile land. No trees were in the near perimeter of the area, but a set of woods lay behind the man as well as ahead.

Paige, in her current position, stayed shaded in the woods ahead of him. When she was sure the man was fully preoccupied, a few more relaxed breaths slipped out.

She didn't hear what the man said, but his lips moved in an irritated manner.

"Of course," she muttered to herself. "Man just put an arrow through a walker. Has to congratulate himself."

And this she found impressive. Paige had heard sound attracted the walkers like a moth to a flame. The person before her understood this just as well, or perhaps simply had a natural talent for the crossbow. Whatever the reason, not only was his aim deadly accurate, but it garnered no extra attention from nearby walkers.

As evident by the clean shot through the left eye socket.

"He was a survivor," she realized softly. "Even before the beginning of the end."

For a brief moment, she considered getting to her feet and escaping before the man could detect her. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation. Or him accidentally discovering her.

But this sort of voyeurism didn't make her feel vulnerable for once. It was like observing nature in its rawest form.

Man kills zombie with arrow. Man is leaning over zombie, tugging arrow out of zombie's eye. One less dead bastard in the world.

The circle of life certainly knew no bounds...and decided to add in an extra step after death.

So, despite getting a move on and making sure her sleeping area was cleared of unfriendly visitors, Paige stayed crouched in her position, watching the man cleaning the arrow with a rag he'd fished out of his belt, right eye glued to the scope.

The man's eyes were focused on the task. Accomplished, perhaps? Or maybe bored?

All along, his lips were still moving. Still having an internal conversation.

A sudden wet invasion of saltiness caused Paige's eye to seal shut and finger to slip away from the trigger.

"Damn it," she mumbled, wiping at her forehead.

The sun beated down in reply, especially cruel this afternoon.

Momentarily wishing she'd had filled more canteens back at the river, Paige let out a tired sigh. Her head pounded at the gesture while her stomach rumbled threateningly. The vibrations no longer caused stomach pangs, however. She was far past the point of starvation.

With another careful breath, Paige rolled back her shoulders before leaning to the scope. One eye shot immediately to the man, still on one knee, still making sure every inch of the arrow was cleared of the diseased blood, still murmuring under his breath.

So into the moment was Paige, she nearly failed to catch the movement stir behind him. The grass was a bit taller now that no one was there to trim it, and from the man's focused position, he remained oblivious to the walker slowly crawling up to his knees.

Containing her initial panic, Paige waited only a split second before focusing her aim on the walker hiding within the grass. The aim she had was just of the walker's shoulder. Everything else was blocked out by the man's solid form.

Fortunately and unfortunately, the walker was far more agile than she realized. He'd lifted himself up in that split second and crouched like a childish boogeyman, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting victim.

Fortunately, his body was in an unobstructed view.

The same tingle broke through her fingers as she steadied the sniper. New life escaped into her lungs and with a final petrified breath, Paige released the bullet.

It only took less than a second for the bullet to enter the walker's jugular, and another for him to stumble back.

The hollow echo vibrated off of every trunk in the vicinity, effectively calling out all walker's within the mile.

By the time the man whipped around, crossbow in hand, the walker was splayed grotesquely on the ground, head just barely attached to the neck, bleeding profusely.

Hurriedly pulling back the sniper from in between the rocks, Paige crouched down behind her fortress, exhaling profusely. The excitement of killing the walker was nothing compared to the elation of having saved someone. If only for an hour or a day or a month, it didn't matter.

_He didn't even have time to reflect over his life. That would have been a terrible death._

When a full minute had passed by, Paige clutched Winston tightly to her before deciding to peek up from the stones. Hopefully, the man would realize his luck and jog on back to wherever he was stationed.

She nearly ducked back down when she saw the man peering her way. He stood not even a full 50 yards away, crossbow gripped in hand as he scoured the area he'd thought the shot came from.

_Crap...what do I do? If I reveal myself, he might get hostile. Damn it...I knew I should have avoided this area. Just skipped on through the pathway leading to the moistened soil. That's where the water is. Something I desperately need or I'll end up just like that walker._

Her thoughts soon became unnecessary. The man's gaze scanned each section of the outer woods before landing his eyes directly on her crouched form.

Feeling like a deer in the headlights, Paige hesitantly raised a hand. She didn't want to give him any reason for trouble. The reality of killing the man she'd just kept alive, didn't sit well with her.

To her relief, the man slowly raised a hand in reply. There was nothing trusting in the gesture, but he did so nonetheless.

_Just leave._

Bringing her hand back to Winston, Paige exhaled before slowly melting back into the woods behind her, leaving the man on his own.

Her torn Reebox knockoffs stomped dutifully upon the ground, leading her body back into the shaded woods. It was only a fraction cooler beneath the leaves, but safer than being out in the open. And certainly much safer than being in the presence of someone who could turn out to be a real monster.

There was a trail her feet followed, just barely detectable to a passerby. She'd discovered it by accident at first, and silently saved a picture of it in her mind. This was her only way of determining what sort of climate and region she would encounter.

Winston was aimed ahead, unnerved at the silence. If any walkers heard the resonating blast, they'd be limping on their way over. And the last thing Paige wanted to be was caught off guard. While less walkers roamed through the woods rather than say a place like Atlanta, their complete surprise remained a constant danger.

So, she continued trekking through the woods, eyes scanning even the slightest bristle of leaves or branches.

Birds chirped in the near distance, and she was sure a few squirrels had decided to reveal themselves and see if lingering danger was present.

_That is so strange. How everything else continues on no matter what sort of peril humans face. We've certainly given nature its fair share of destruction. Deforestation. Wildfires. Poaching. Hunting. In the end, we're the ones at the mercy of nature._

She nearly lost her footing as the toe of her sneaker lodged itself underneath a log.

"Fucking Wal-Mart. Cheap shoes for cheap brands," she mumbled, steadying herself as she lifted her foot out.

"Ain't that the truth."

Stilling, Paige's heart nearly lept out of her mouth as she whirled around.

In between two trunks stood the very same man she'd observed minutes ago, crossbow pointed down. His body leaned forward a bit, most likely a bit spent from the journey of catching up to her.

For a second, they just stared, taking the other in.

Paige hadn't been in contact, much less proximity with humans for a good month, probably more. Seeing the man reluctantly forced her eyes to drink him in hungrily.

Scraggly, blonde-brown hair was pasted to his head while his bangs hung wearily over the crown of his forehead. Whiskery facial features and untrusting, blue eyes, studied her. He wore loose jeans with blood stains soaked within and a cutoff t-shirt, showing off his glistening biceps.

When all he did was continue to stare, Paige risked a step backward. Now, things were getting a bit too comfortable.

"Wait jus' a second," he motioned roughly, throwing up a hand. "No need to scatter off when ya probably attracted some o' them walkers."

"I can handle them myself," she assured, neither bossily nor uncertainly.

Squinting, the man risked a step forward.

"Nice shot, by the way."

"Thank you."

And back Paige traveled. She made a careful point not to aim Winston at him. Their détente was going well so far.

"You live out here?" he questioned, scanning the area quickly. "Not safe in the woods. Lots o' them walkers are shiftin' out here since the cities are runnin' outta food."

"Thank you," she repeated "but, I'm planning on moving on. Sorry for the inconvenience."

And with that, she dropped her head, continuing the path she'd been intent on going. Step by step, eyes back to scanning the area.

The man, however, continued to trail her.

"Can't believe I didn't see that walker behind me," he remarked after a minute of silent walking.

"They're a bit cleverer than we give them credit for," she acknowledged. "And spry."

More silence followed, broken only by the sound of their shoes snapping branches beneath them.

"Do ya hunt for food with yer weapon?"

Glancing down, Paige shook her head.

"Just for the walkers."

"You hungry?"

Paige physically restrained her tummy from answering.

"Just ate," she lied.

"Not an idiot. You look malnourished."

"Thank you for the observation."

"Damn it, woman, stop thankin' me!"

His comment was said with a grunt, as if he wasn't thanked all that often and suddenly didn't enjoy the prospect of it. This brought an amused grin to her face.

"Sorry."

In the background, the afternoon sun began descending from the center of the sky. She reckoned based on its position, it'd be six o clock shortly.

"You're still following me?" she called back, a bit more at ease with the man.

She didn't know why. By all means, he could be a murderous looter.

Then again, she had saved his life. He must have felt some form of gratitude if he chased all the way after her.

"Free woods," he defended.

She nodded, leg swinging over a fallen tree trunk, hiding her smile.

They were far from the grasslands now and deep into the heart of the woods. The atmosphere was certainly thicker, but wouldn't be for long. Once night moved in, everything was the same temperature.

Paige's instincts urged her to stray toward her sleeping area, but logic kept her going the opposite way. She needed to throw her pursuer off, no matter how cooperative he was acting.

"Let me try this. Is there a reason you're following me?" she tested.

The man didn't answer for a long time. Such a long time that Paige actually paused in her tracks to look back at him, the sky having darkened considerably around them.

"You saved my life," he slowly revealed, shifting uncomfortably in his steps. "Tha's never happened before."

"Oh," she nodded. "Well...you're welcome."

"I ain't tellin' you I'm grateful."

"Then...you're not welcome."

"Tha's not what I meant."

Leaning on one leg, Paige tilted her head.

"You've been following me for the past thirty minutes. I'm kind of clueless as to what you do and don't mean."

He suddenly seemed anxious. Not in an obvious way, but his eyes didn't meet her face and a thumb shot up to his mouth, teeth nibbling on the thin nail there.

"Wha's yer name?" he asked after his anxiety faded.

Paige didn't answer.

"Not even a name? Sheesh. Afraid I'll tell one o' the walkers?" he laughed.

Smiling lightly, Paige continued her scanning of the man. She noted his nervousness still bubbled inside, but was confused what exactly it was doing there.

"Why'd you do it?" he finally demanded. "Take the shot. Coulda easily ran off. Shot coulda easily missed."

Surprised, Paige found the ground. Her toes stretched through the cheap material of the sneakers, seemingly begging for a good romp within the dark, cool soil.

"Instinct," she admitted, understanding this question to be the reason he'd followed her in the first place. "I saw trouble, you were going to die, and I took the shot. Didn't mean anything by it or for you to suddenly feel like you owe me something. You don't. It's an apocalypse. I'd like to think there are still a few decent people in the world that'd help someone in need."

Unconvinced, the man took a step closer to her. Paige didn't back up, but she was becoming tired of the conversation.

"I'm a wanderer," she elaborated, hoping to keep the man at bay. "I go from place to place. Try to scout out for danger. Not selfish enough as to only care about my life. I've saved persons such as you, but definitely with much less of a fuss."

"You disappear 'fore they see ya," he noted accusingly.

"Is that such a bad thing? I'm not trying to get involved or make it seem like this will be the start of a beautiful friendship. Just looking out for myself, and occasionally, others."

The man switched his crossbow to the other hand, eyes glued on to her. Paige was expecting him to begin the debate once more.

He surprised her, however.

"I'm a part of a group of survivors. We're based 'bout two miles northwest from 'ere. If you need food or water, I can show you the way back."

Sighing, Paige gave herself no time to think about it.

"I'll manage out here fine. Thank you."

The man's eyes stayed focused on her as she began backing up. She felt like he'd stay in the same spot forever, just watching her.

"How many you killed with yer snipe?" he finally asked, sensing her need to sprint.

Curiously, Paige's eyes fell over Winston. Not a single blood stain littered the mahogany handle coating, but that didn't mean he hadn't done his fair share of defending.

"Never missed a target as of yet," she ended up replying proudly, throwing him a smile. "Forty-one headless walkers are mighty pissed at me right now."

With that, she gave him a final nod before slipping back into the dense trees, failing to see the shock her words had branched over the man's features.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

"I thought the walkers finally got you," Glenn shouted, alerting the camp to his presence.

Daryl only muttered, brushing off the man. The crossbow was still at his side, ready to unleash. The near attack had heightened his defense instincts to an almost unnatural level.

"You okay?" Rick called from his seat around the fire as the hunter stalked by.

For a moment, Daryl ceased in his footsteps.

"There's some girl in the woods," he blurted, unsure why the information was even being released.

Everyone around the camp stopped with their work.

"In the woods?" Rick clarified, standing. "Walker?"

"No," he grumbled back. "If it were a walker, I sure as hell wouldn't be talkin' bout them. It's...some girl who's accurate with a sniper. Caught a walker in the throat, nearly blasted his head off from 50 yards away."

He purposely bit down on his tongue before telling them she'd saved his life.

"Alright," Rick announced, processing the information. "Everyone, be careful when you go out. If there's no doubt in your mind that it's a walker, shoot it. But if you think otherwise, keep back the shot."

Daryl fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of course the point of his words were to not shoot the fuckin' girl.

"Did you talk to her?" Dale asked.

Feeling everyone's gazes on him, Daryl kept his fingers down from his mouth.

"Offered her food, but she said no. Don't know her name-."

He thought over how steady of an aim she'd have had to shoot the bastard without getting himself in the process. More accurate shooter than Merle...and that was sayin' somethin'.

"-Grass Fox," he muttered. "Like a damn Grass Fox."

"Well...everyone keep a look out for this...Grass Fox," Rick informed slowly, catching Daryl's eye at the last words.

The hunter shrugged off the sheriff's curiosity and instead, swept through the camp until he was safely inside his tent. With a long stretch, he threw his crossbow down and swiftly slung off his shirt.

It felt heavy with liquid, and a salty odor made its way into his nostrils. If he could admit it, most of the sweat had been after the walker was shot behind him.

"Didn't even know the damned thing was there," he muttered, leaning back on his sleeping bag. The muscles in his back stretched in protest before setting in their usual taut manner. As if at any moment, he was ready to strike.

But, he was denyin' his fault as well. Of not payin' attention when on any other day, just one little motion from a walker so close to him, would have earned the bastard an arrow through the eye.

What was different this time?

Oh, Daryl knew. Hated that he knew too.

He had been lost in thought. Something he thought only pussies did. Accordin' to Merle, at least. Not that he thought Rick was a pussy, and he knew the man thought more of the camp's safety than his own.

Still, he had let his guard down for a few minutes, first time since stompin' back to his tent after learnin' that the group had left Merle chained to the roof of a buildin' back in Atlanta.

And wouldn't you know it, just like before, his brother had been who he'd been thinkin' 'bout. Where he was. If he was still kickin' ass, even with his disability. If he was even alive. And then the thought that had dictated most of his time.

Realizin' that for once, Daryl was relieved to not have Merle in the near vicinity.

'Course this was such a fucked up thought, 'specially considerin' his brother was the only other person he had now.

So, with a few angry remarks at himself for bein' such a dumbass, Daryl rearranged his thoughts and completely blocked out anythin' that wasn't determined to find his brother again.

A second later and the air exploded with a loud **BANG** as a bullet whizzed behind him, inches away from branding itself into his own neck.

Which then set his current thoughts to the girl.

He didn't have a problem admitting, only to himself of course, that she'd saved his life. He may've been able to fight the bastard off, but it'd have gotten a good tear out of him beforehand.

Still, he felt uneasy with the emotions stirrin' inside him after the event. Nobody did somethin' for nothin'.

_'Cept people like Rick, maybe._

Point was, there's always strings attached to people's actions. Probably the first lesson he learned as a kid.

She'd had to have been watchin' him for a steady period of time to have seen the walker. Really coulda left him there to die, but didn't. Took the shot, scampered off like a hare with its' ass on fire, and wanted nothin' in return.

Daryl was in the business of knowin' things didn't come for free. But this girl, hell, might be a woman, wasn't even able to tell, flipped over a primary lesson he'd been taught in infancy. And did so while the world was in fuckin' chaos. A time where people would be most willin' to take advantage of others hospitality.

Although the Grass Fox had refused to eat - he wasn't lyin' about her being malnourished – or come to the camp, he felt this reluctant sense of owing his life to her, seep in. And the only way he really knew the feelin' would disappear completely was if he returned the same favor.

All of this was processed within seconds and an unhappy frown soon fell over his lips. The decision was rash and unlike him.

Then again, he wasn't lyin'. No one had ever saved his ass before.

_Probably long gone by now. Sure was in a hurry to get away from me._

And this action confused him as well. Who would want to be alone during hell on earth? He knew he'd traveled better with the group, even if he couldn't bring himself to say that. If someone covered his back, he had a better chance of survivin'.

But the Grass Fox wanted nothin' to do with him or his promise of a place to eat.

_Might've not believed me. _

Daryl grumbled again, flipping over on to his stomach, willin' the thoughts to stop botherin' him.

The balmy Georgia air was slowly making its' presence known and pretty soon, Daryl's entire body felt like a furnace.

He didn't feel much like eatin' after seein' the woman's thin form. Not sickly thin, but headin' there shortly.

Unfortunately, he couldn't rest either. For some reason, the event out in the plains kept on shuffling through his mind like a NASCAR race.

_I coulda died today._

He hadn't even processed that til' now. If not for someone's eye on him, he'd have been a flesh eatin' fucker in no time. And that woulda been a hell of a way to go with all the shit he'd been through.

Daryl continued to stare up at the ceiling of his tent. When sleep came to him three hours later, the Grass Fox was no further from his mind than it had been when he first saw her.

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**An encounter and a nickname! Also, since Daryl's been around the group for awhile, opening himself up a bit to Rick and the others, I would think he wouldn't be so scared to go after Paige. Plus, while Daryl loves his brother fiercely, I can't help but think that not missing his presence would be a reluctant thought every now and again. Which is one of the things that fascinates me so much - how different Daryl really is from Merle. Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


	2. I Ain't Jesus

**I'm very flattered at the interest this story has garnered. Of course there is a legion of eager Daryl fans, but I know a lot of you were nervous whether this would be a Mary-Sue story or a plot that's been done before. I truly have taken all of these things into consideration, especially before beginning this story. But, like I've said before, I hope to make this story in a realm of its own, be it through plot or character development. Which is a word that scares me because I've had trouble with it. Character development. *Shudders* Anywho, thank you very much for the kind reviews and story alerts/favorites. Sorry it took so long to upload, but know that I appreciate everyone's interest so far. Don't forget, this is my interpretation of events and characters. So, if you're freaked out about how Daryl is acting, you don't have to read on. Hope you enjoy!**

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**Chapter 2 - I Ain't Jesus**

Paige's stomach growled for the twentieth time that evening and rather than shrugging it off like she'd done every other time, the girl decided to stop for the moment, focusing on adjusting her sight to the darkness. Night had descended far too quickly, and unfortunately, the temperature refused to lower along with it. This made it disgustingly easy for mosquitos and other insects to become stuck to the sweat trickling over her neck and arms, making everything slick and sticky.

_I should have taken that man's offer._

But a stubborn shake of the head soon followed this thought. She had known virtually nothing about him and trusting her instincts in a world where survival overruled compassion, could have lead to a very dangerous situation.

So, no matter how desperately she needed food inside her, the chronic pangs causing her knees to wobble being clear signs of this, Paige knew better. In the end, denying the request had been in her best interest.

Seconds later, however, she reconsidered.

Each step she took became slower than the last and breathing was becoming intensely difficult. Her lungs felt constructed, as if not enough oxygen could move out of them and the heat made her vision blurry and unfocused. A few times, her fingers threatened to lose their grip on Winston completely while the beat of her pulse receded to nearly a snail's pace.

But none of this could beat the frustrating realization that she'd abandoned her path back to the grass lands somewhere half a mile back, too disoriented to realize where the turn off point would be.

Ceasing in her footsteps again, Paige attempted to scan the area quickly, but this only made her head spin. And every second or so, back spots popped up in her vision, blocking out the moon light scattered through the trees.

_Definitely not how I'd envisioned my death. Heat stroke and starvation. How...uneventful._

Her stomach pushed a violent convulsion through her, momentarily paralyzing both legs in place.

But Paige forced her feet to move ahead, fighting back the agony and heaviness of each step.

Other than her labored breathing, the night laid dormant and could almost be mistaken for any other one prior to the apocalypse. Relatively peaceful, insect infested, and insufferably humid.

"Ugh," she suddenly groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as another series of pangs shot through her.

In the midst of the cramped pains, her fingers finally loosened completely around Winston, dropping the weapon near a group of mossy rocks sheltered within a tree's root.

Half of her consciously comprehended this loss, but it couldn't command her brain to kneel down and search for it. Instead, the only instinct it followed was survival, draining the last of her energy in the process

So, Paige continued forward, beating back the submission her body wished to concede in.

Until about a quarter mile. Then, her legs simply gave out.

A last second prayer for a painless death remained unheard by the indifferent trees.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Daryl woke up just as the sun broke the horizon and fled the camp with crossbow at his side before anyone could question him. He was sure they were all curious about his mentionin' of the Grass Fox (the nickname just stuck), but he didn't have the patience to discuss her anymore. She'd even followed him into his damn dreams and he knew enough of this infrequent occurrence that it wasn't a good sign.

This morning, he was gonna take a nice long walk and put some arrows into a few squirrels. Nothing like huntin' to rid a person of pesterin' thoughts.

But almost right away, his hunt didn't go quite as planned.

This time 'round, he was far more vigilant of his surroundings. Sure as hell didn't want a repeat of yesterday, 'specially since no one had his back.

It seemed like with every step he took, however, some critter scampered off. He tried lowering his feet carefully and quietly, knowing how he planted his foot determined whether an animal would pick him up, but it was like the rodents had super sonic hearing that morning. As soon as his foot came down in the dirt, away went another animal.

It got to the point where Daryl shot an arrow at a rabbit long after it'd scurried off, just for the sake of releasin' some steam.

When he stomped to the area he'd shot it, the arrow was nowhere to be found.

He cursed constantly throughout his failed hunt, wondering why the hell he was so on edge. He'd gotten in at least six hours of sleep, a pretty big accomplishment considerin' the state of the world. But for some reason or other, his nerves were shot.

Worse still, after an hour had gone by, he realized his feet were negating toward the grass lands he'd been at yesterday. And somewhere in his head, a plan was formulatin' without his consent.

By the time noon had arrived, Daryl's feet were pushin' him down the same trail he'd followed yesterday after catchin' up with the Grass Fox.

"The fuck am I doin'?" he muttered to himself, pausing suddenly.

A few birds chirped in reply, the leaves rustled their acknowledgement, and even the sun offered up a glaring nod, but otherwise, Daryl couldn't come up with a sound excuse.

At the moment, he was following the girl's trail. Or at least determining which way she'd swerved after she left the area. It took him a moment to realize she'd been throwin' him off and for some reason or other, this made him even more determined to find her.

What would he do once he found her?

He hadn't a clue in hell.

But the thought of owing somebody somethin', 'specially after them monumentally savin' your ass, pressed down upon him without mercy.

And so he returned to his reluctant tracking.

The Grass Fox had indeed wound a sophisticated path, focusing on a veer off that would eventually lead to the other end of the grass lands he'd first been crouching in. That way, the familiar area would serve as a reference point to where she actually wanted to go.

But for some reason or other, the twigs breaking apart on the forest floor were forming into swerves, as if she couldn't decide which way to go.

_Coulda gotten lost._

But this made no sense to him. She knew the woods as well as the area, that much was obvious from her confident stroll.

So, this sudden stumbling didn't add up, 'specially since it looked like she never made it back to the grass lands.

Briefly, he wondered if a walker could have intercepted her path, but as far as his squinted stare could tell, no other prints interrupted her own.

"Where were you goin'?" he mumbled, glancing around his feet at the bent vegetation.

The trees didn't answer, nor did they appear familiar from the evening before. So on top of branching off from the grass lands, the Grass Fox's path appeared to go on without destination. It just kept on zig zaggin' around until-.

Daryl abruptly ceased in his steps, eyes struggling to pick out the unfamiliar form slumped over a log approximately 100 yards out ahead. Immediately, his crossbow pointed up and with an unnatural gracefulness, he tip toed his way forward, holding his breath.

Almost instantly he realized it to be a human, but whether they were walker or otherwise, remained to be seen. In fact, all he could see from his angle in between the trees was the back of the figure, a white t-shirt glued to their back. Like the person simply fell over the log in exhaustion.

For the moment, he forgot the sweat gathering at his neck or the gnats buzzing past his ear. The heat melted away as he kept moving forward, fingers gripping his crossbow painfully.

It only took a careful minute of silent gliding and passing through a particularly thick section of woodland before he finally processed what he was seeing.

"Shit."

Against his better judgment, Daryl lowered the crossbow to his side and jogged the remaining yards forward.

Slumped over the dry log was none other than the Grass Fox, hanging limp and seemingly lifeless, hair matted and full of leaves, white t-shirt torn at and stained with dry blood.

For a fleeting moment, Daryl didn't know what to do. Yeah, he had tracked her, but a part of him reasoned that she'd probably fled the area. Or maybe hoped she had so a confrontation wouldn't occur.

Actually findin' her, 'specially in such a terrible shape, momentarily made him freeze up.

_She saved my ass. Am I really gonna just let her die?_

And this final thought was enough to spur him into action.

Setting his weapon down, but not so it'd be out of reach, Daryl knelt beside the body and swiftly scooped her off the log, pulling her over one forearm.

One hand moved to her forehead, nearly recoilin' at how hot the skin felt, then moved down to her mouth, frownin' when ragged breathing blew into his fingers, slower than even his own when he was pursuin' an animal.

Spreading his knees apart, Daryl descended from a kneeling position to a sitting one on the forest floor, not liking how vulnerable of a position he'd taken on, but knowing it to be necessary so he could allow the girl's body to slump back into his.

Her head lolled on to his right shoulder and with a fumble, Daryl pulled out a rag from his right pocket.

Her lips were dry and chapped, cheeks nearly gaunt like, would be if another week passed by of starvation. But Daryl ignored all these warnin' signs that on any other occasion, could probably unease his stomach a little, as another hand worked at uncapping the canteen at his side.

Once this task was successful, he sloshed some cold water over the rag and re-capped the canteen.

With a deep exhale, his hand moved up to her forehead, patting down over the heated flesh quickly, making a path down around her cheeks and falling beneath the curve of her jaw. There was enough cold water to effectively bring back any person caught in a heat stroke.

However, his method hardly stirred the girl.

"C'mon," he muttered, forcing the girl's body even tighter to his own, allowing easier access to the opposite side of her face.

One hand continued the patting, far more insistent now, making sure to soak and neutralize the heated skin until his knuckles could brush across the slipperiness of her forehead.

And yet, the Grass Fox still failed to respond.

Briefly pausing, Daryl placed two fingers to the pulse in her neck.

"Shit," he growled again.

The low beat told him she may have been lying on the log for hours prior to his stumble upon her.

So, he returned to the remedy, making sure to work his way 'specially around the crown of her head.

An unexpected flinch passed through her so quickly that for a moment, Daryl wasn't sure if he saw right.

But he persisted with patting the cloth over her face until he could force a response from her again.

It only took a minute and a half before her eyes wearily opened up, aiming a blood shot hazel gaze directly at him.

The odd mix of color momentarily caught him off guard, rag slipping from his fingers as the reddish, nearly auric, hazel flickered in between awareness and wherever the hell she'd been before he'd brought her back.

She looked like she'd just fought off death and grasped what little of life remained. She looked...raw and naked. And that, for some incredibly fucked up reason, fascinated Daryl.

"Jesus, it's you," she croaked unexpectedly, one hand shooting out, attempting to grasp the side of his face. The weight of her arm, however, forced the limb to drop like an anchor, over her chest.

"I ain't Jesus," Daryl murmured, senses returning to him.

A dry grin cracked over her lips.

"If you're not Jesus, will you let me rest till I meet him?"

Slowly, her hand clenched into a fist and for a second, her eyes grew unfocused.

"Certainly ain't gonna let you die just cause you're tired," he ended up responding gruffly, unsure where the hell his compassion was comin' from. Or why he felt like he was channelin' Dale.

"Not trying to kill myself," she defended lightly, hand skipping to her stomach. "Just anticipating a peaceful end. Wouldn't be so cruel to deny me that, would you?"

Daryl didn't speak for a moment, unnerved at the consideration he was taking over the question.

"You...wanna die?"

She tried laughing, but all that came out was a raspy cough.

"I'm dying of heat stroke," she voiced, trying to wet her lips. "Compared to the other ways I could die, this is mercy."

Again, that faraway look settled down in her eyes, and for a moment, Daryl truly did imagine leavin' her just where he found her, forgettin' about the debt he felt he owed her. And he knew in a way, that her words held reason. It was either die now, quick and probably painless, or get torn apart by a walker, or worse - becomin' one.

_That's fucked up, lettin' her die. And you'd be a sunofabitch if you didn't know that. Shit, you may not have been able to save Merle, but that don't mean another person's gotta die._

Without warnin', Daryl sprang to his knees, one hand slipping underneath the Grass Fox's back and the other moving beneath her jean-clad legs.

He then lifted her up with unnatural ease and silently promised himself to make sure she got lots of food in her. He wanted to actually break a sweat the next time he had to lift her up.

A little bit of awareness sank into the Grass Fox's hazel eyes as she peered down from her heightened position, nose scrunched up in a curious crinkle.

Then, ever so leisurely, her eyes met Daryl's.

"You're really doing this?"

Despite claimin' to want to meet Jesus, Daryl could hear the faint hope in her voice.

"You're surprise is just as clear as mine," he informed, securing his arms underneath her.

"I'll be dead by the time you get me to your camp," she tried pointing out, as if she didn't trust their position.

Hell, she probably didn't trust him. Even if she knew what he planned on doin'.

"That a bet?" he threatened.

But she didn't cave underneath the level of his stare like most people did. In fact, something inside her eyes seemed to soften at the answer.

That is until she suddenly grabbed a hold of his shirt with one hand, fingers tugging desperately at the fabric.

"You have to get Winston," she commanded hoarsely, still unable to pronounce words clearly. "Please. If you-d-do this, you have to get him."

Confused, Daryl lifted up an eyebrow.

"Winston a brother or somethin'?" he asked, wondering if she looked after another person. Which didn't seem right considerin' the nature of her exits.

Shaking her head as best as she could, the Grass Fox made eye contact with him, the locked gaze nearly forcin' Daryl to forget the following words.

"Snipe-_r_."

And that was the last word she was able to get out before passing out, head slumping back in an unnatural angle, leaving Daryl to only stare dumbly down at her, wondering who the hell gave their weapon a name.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

"Uh...guys?"

"Not right now, Glenn," Lori brushed off, tending to Carl's bloodied knee. "You have got to listen to Dale when you and Sophia play by the fire pit. The ground isn't as steady there."

"Sorry," Carl mumbled, flinching at the dabs of peroxide.

"Guys?" Glenn tried again, a little louder, peering into the woods.

"I'm just saying," Andrea spoke from behind, landing her eyes on Dale, "that Carol should learn to defend herself. Have Rick or Shane teach her how to shoot a gun."

"When she's comfortable with that sort of responsibility, we'll talk about it with her. But she just lost her husband, Andrea," Dale noted.

"Of course she has!" Andrea exclaimed, throwing both hands from her hips in agitation. "But if she would have known how to use a gun in the first place, her husband would have never been a problem for her or Sophia. Plus, it's been a month. Sooner or later, survival is going to have to override whatever pain she's got left inside her."

"That mean you're over Amy yet?" Shane input, wiping at his gun with a dirty rag.

Andrea's eyes narrowed into angry slits, body spinning toward him.

"Don't you dare bring her into this," she seethed.

"Shane's just trying to put it into perspective," Rick mentioned, shifting through the medical supplies. "That pain of losing someone is still raw. It affects people in different ways. Just because you chose to throw up arms doesn't mean Carol will do so as well. Everyone handles pain in their own ways."

The explanation seemed to calm Andrea down for the moment.

"I'm still talking to her about it," she declared. "She may be in pain, but that doesn't mean she has to be defenseless."

"Guys!" Glenn yelled, eyes glued to the approaching figure.

All eyes shot to him, and on any other occasion, Glenn might have been a bit nervous about speaking up to the group.

But his gaze remained focused up ahead and only his confusion gave him the confidence to speak.

"Either I'm seeing Daryl Dixon carrying a woman in his arms...or there was something seriously screwed up with that river water we found," Glenn voiced aloud.

A second later and the group found what Glenn had been staring at.

"It's gotta be the water," Andrea noted in disbelief.

Dale pawed at his binoculars, nearly smacking himself in the head before taking a long look through them.

"I do believe Daryl has found his Grass Fox," he answered a moment later.

The hunter approached like he'd just stepped out of a Steven Spielberg film, the front half of a sniper poking out from behind one side of his back and the tip of his crossbow from the other, both securely strapped in with thin, tan rope. And in his arms, he carried a person, obviously passed out, and desperately in need of medical attention.

No one said a word when Daryl finally stopped, lifting the girl higher up to his upper abdomen.

"Y'all just gonna stare or actually do somethin'?" he demanded roughly.

His words were like a cannon shot fired into a silent night.

"I'll go get Carol," Lori stated immediately. "She fixed Rick up. She's the closest we have to a doctor."

It seemed like she was looking to Daryl for assurance because she only left when he nodded.

"I'll get the cot cleared off," Andrea offered, already moving to the camper. "Is she bleeding?"

"No bites," Daryl confirmed quickly.

No one asked if he was sure.

"She needs water," the hunter continued. "Strip as much clothes as you can, soak some rags and put 'em 'round the areas where the most blood circulates. Make sure her whole body gets cooled down."

"Aren't you going to do it?" Shane asked, stepping beside him.

Daryl turned to the cop.

"Take her," he motioned.

Shane didn't argue the demand, extending his arms out and accepting the girl's frail form.

"She hardly weighs anything," he acknowledged, making his way into the camper. "Hot as hell too."

Dale and Glenn followed after, but not before grabbing handfuls of canteens and rags.

Daryl only stared after them, his heart beating harder than it'd been in a long while. Not even his near death experience, which actually managed to stop his heart, came close to this.

Carol arrived shortly after, followed by Sophia and T-Dog as Rick informed them of the situation.

_Time to go._

Daryl nodded at this thought, even if it felt wrong. He didn't know if the girl would survive. Her temperature had to have been nearly hittin' 110.

Leavin' now wasn't what he wanted, but like other times in his life, he felt this pressure of havin' to do so even when his mind considered the exact opposite.

So, Daryl casted the closed screen door one last look before making his way to the familiar trail of his tent.

However, halfway to the walk, a hand circled around his elbow, effectively holding him in place.

He didn't have to know what Rick wanted. The puzzlement and hidden gratitude reflected in his eyes, just as well as the silent question.

Why.

"We're even now," was Daryl's only retort.

With that, Rick released him and the hunter retreated back into his tent, head seemingly buzzing ten times faster than it'd been the night before.

* * *

**So Daryl saves the day. In his usual anti-hero way, which is what we all love about him so much. But will this be enough for him? Hope you enjoyed that. Let me know your thoughts in a review.**


	3. Copperfield

**I thank everyone who added this story an alert. It lets me know I have a general audience. I don't have as much of a reviewer based one, but I still hope that means there is interest in this story. This is the first chapter I have truly been nervous about writing. It's long, explores parts of my OC that even you as an audience won't quite understand yet, navigates through the actual characters of the show and hopefully what I've interpreted as a general personality for them, and of course - Daryl. Who's confusing feelings you won't be really given a heads up to much this chapter, seeing it more from the group's and Paige's eyes. Anyways, enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Copperfield**

_"You need help? We're sheltering some survivors at a makeshift base just up the road."_

_Paige, starved from the short breakfast of walnuts and unripened peaches earlier in the day, blew out a sigh of relief, eyes landing on her rescuer. Her bangs had grown excessively in these past two weeks, able to be flicked behind her ears now. The naturalness of her strawberry blonde hair began emerging, showing how terrible of a dye job the fire engine red had been in the first place. _

_But college had been a magical place of experimentation, and you only lived once, right?_

_Well...it'd be twice nowadays._

_"You sure?" she asked, wiping off a sheen of sweat gathered at the nape of her neck. "I could eat practically anything right now. Dead or alive."_

_She meant this as a joke and the man laughed right on cue, features briefly softening._

_"Yeah, I don't doubt you. You'll get what Atlanta couldn't provide. Safety and comfort."_

_The only time the man hesitated, Paige could now faintly recall, was when his eyes drifted down to Winston._

_"Need me to carry that?" he offered._

_By now, Winston had become more than just her means of survival. He'd become a friend._

_"No, that won't be necessary. Plus, we'll need to cover each other, right? Just cause we made it out of the city doesn't mean there aren't any hiding near the woods."_

_The man nodded in agreement, gesturing Paige to follow. _

_And so, she did._

_But in seconds flat, her surroundings blurred together, rearranging forms and shapes until they were all one melted mess of colors._

_When everything finally stilled once more, Paige found herself sprawled on a concrete floor. She blinked once, ignoring how cold, out of all sensations, her body was. In fact, she never allowed her gaze to travel down, feeling a sense of panic creep in whenever she thought about it._

_Instead, she kept her gaze up. _

_The beginnings of a mold infestation peppered the corners of the ceiling, causing a musty stench to fill the room. __A small window, allowing little sunlight, and perhaps big enough to stick your head through, cradled itself between two salmon curtains, torn at and severely outdated. A broken chair leg littered itself near the window, but Paige didn't have a clue as to where the remainder of the wooden chair could be._

_All she knew was coldness unlike she'd ever felt before, covering her from head to toe. Not even the family trip to the Mall of America in Minnesota, taken during what seemed to be the blizzard of the century, could compare to this coldness. _

_It numbed her body from the ability to feel anything other than the shivers coasting through her and the slices of ice digging into her lungs each time she tried to breathe. No ability to imagine warmness, however false, or any ability to take refuge in a place other than where she lay._

_She was sure that had she the courage, one glance at her form would show it receding into a bluish pale. _

_But she didn't, and staring up at the ceiling, eyes pinpointed to a faint stain of yellow, became her comfort. _

_She wondered how the stain had gotten there. Whether a toilet sat above the stain. What the stain would look like if it were a different color._

_And for a brief moment, her body wasn't necessarily so bitterly cold and the ability to imagine a place far from reality itself, seemed limitless._

_That is until her ears detected movement from behind the only door leading into the room. _

_Her heart paused in place._

_Suddenly, everything held sense. Deep, maddening sense. Why the stain was there. What happened to the rest of the chair. Why she knew that only a human head could fit through the window. How the curtains had come to be so torn. _

_And why fear engulfed her whenever she thought of looking down at herself._

_The scream burst from her throat, carrying no hope of stopping. _

_Paige screamed until her lungs bled, until her fingernails tore into the flesh of her palms, until the bluish pale darkened her skin._

_Until the yellow stain above morphed into an angry grimace._

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Although a part of her recognized that the dream had induced such panic, Paige still couldn't contain her form from flying up in the cot, hands shooting out at an arm near her forehead. Loose bits of screams, sounding more like broken yelps, flew from her lips, and quite suddenly, her body became animated, knees violently jerking up as her nails attempted to dig in to the flesh trying to restrain her.

"Hey!" came an angry yell.

Paige detected a feminine quality within the voice, and ever so gingerly, opened both eyes, fighting down the urge to continue her thrashing.

A blonde haired woman, flushed and in the process of yelling again, stood in a bend over her.

"Hey," the woman repeated, less outraged this time, "it was just a dream. You were dreaming."

Swallowing thickly, Paige forced a nod, sheepishly pulling back her hands. A trickle of embarrassment entered her at the realization that she'd been ready to claw the woman's eyes out.

Definitely not a productive way to make friends.

"Where am I?" she gravely managed out, glancing around the enclosed space as her breaths steadied.

"You're in a camper. Fighting off a heat stroke that nearly killed you."

As soon as the word 'heat' left her mouth, Paige felt a dizziness so common of the month prior, fly through her.

"Woah," the woman said, extending a hand.

Paige allowed it to press against her forehead.

"You're still fighting it off. That means taking it easy for these next few hours. And drinking lots of water now that you're awake."

"Next few hours?" Paige repeated, still a bit disoriented.

The woman tried hiding her smile at her confusion.

"You nearly died from dehydration, starvation, and heat stroke. No matter how much you love the outdoors, the elements are not in your favor at the moment."

Glancing down, Paige studied the slick build up near her veins.

"You saved my life?" she inquired, scanning the woman for confirmation.

"I helped. But if you really want to thank someone, thank Daryl. If he hadn't found you when he did, we wouldn't be having this conversation," the woman informed, holding out a canteen. "Now drink."

Paige obeyed, pouring the lukewarm water down her throat.

Despite how tired her body had been, the sudden nutrients lessened the numbness of her senses. And so she continued on drinking until dribbles of water split down her cheeks.

"Thank you," she panted, handing back the empty canteen. "You found the river?"

"We found _a_ river," the woman answered, offering up a second canteen. "Not a major one. And as far as the animals drinking out of it are concerned, not yet toxic. But that may soon change. The walkers have been leaving the city to find food. We went to fill them up last week, but that'll be it from now on. With what we have, if it's used carefully, we'll be able to carry on for a few good months."

Pausing, Paige lowered the canteen.

"You trust me enough to reveal your supplies?"

The woman offered up a half smile at the puzzlement in her voice.

"I don't. But, Daryl does. And the only person Daryl trusts is himself. The fact that you managed to work your way into people he trusts is a miracle. "

"Daryl," Paige confirmed, tongue running over the name. "That's the hunter with the crossbow?"

"It is."

"And he saved my life?"

"He did."

The information needed a full minute to sink in.

"Tell him thank you."

_I have no idea how the hell he found me, but thank God he did._

"I will, if you want. But he'll be sticking around through the evening. I don't care how quickly he threw you at Shane and stalked off, he'll want to make sure you're alright."

"I can't stay the night," Paige spoke up, making sure arrangements weren't being made without her knowing.

The woman readied herself to argue, but was stopped by Paige's hand.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me. All of you. If not for your sympathy, I'd be dead. Being so close to death made me realize how much I truly want to live. But, this is your camp and these are your people. And you were right. You don't know me. I think it'd be better if it stayed that way. Plus, if I keep guzzling down your water, your estimation on the water supply might not be as accurate by the end of the night."

The woman grew pensive at the statement, and Paige only hoped she would see the bigger picture. Allowing her access to the camp, someone relatively unknown to however many people resided here, wasn't the wisest idea.

Even though she knew she'd never do anything to hurt anyone. At least not until she was provoked.

"My name's Andrea."

Swallowing the last sip of water, Paige tilted her head.

"That's your answer?"

"I never thought I'd say this to anyone," Andrea relayed, crossing her arms, "but the more you distrust me, the more I trust you. Doesn't make much sense, does it?"

"It kinda does," Paige pointed out, then smiled despite herself. "How do you ever handle relationships?"

"I don't. Damn, it all makes sense to me now."

Then, she laughed, the sound coming out swiftly, but full of humor.

Paige marveled at the action, remembering how long she'd been away from human contact or emotion. Even something as tiny as a laugh managed to remind her that people were still surviving despite what the world threw at them.

"But seriously," she said, amusement sliding from her voice, "if you don't want to stay the night, at least stay a few hours. Your body desperately needs it."

"I know," Paige nodded solemnly. "I think I can do that."

"Good. We have people stand guard to make sure we don't get any unfriendly visitors," Andrea assured.

"Winston!" Paige suddenly exclaimed.

Andrea only stared at her.

Paige gripped the canteen until her fingers turned white, but she forced her words to come out calm. "Um...did Daryl bring my sniper?"

"I'm guessing that's the one he had on his back along with his crossbow?"

"Oh, thank God," she mumbled, relaxing.

"Huh, you two have something in common," the blonde woman observed with a smirk. "You're both attached to your weapons."

"His is better for stealth," Paige admitted, thinking back to their first encounter. "Mine's the better one if you really want to kill the bastard."

"Well, for the moment, you don't have to worry about looking over your back. And on that note, I'm going to go see if Rick's got food ready yet. He's the sort of...unofficially elected leader. Be prepared. He'll try to talk you into staying the night."

"Why?"

"Because he's nice. And he'll want to help you out, even if you don't want it."

"Sounds pleasant," Paige noted, sipping at the canteen.

By now, drinking large quantities was becoming uncomfortable. Which meant slowly but surely, her body was fighting back from its malnourishment.

"You'll get used to him."

And before Paige could argue that she only planned on staying a few hours, Andrea exited the camper.

For a moment, she didn't say anything. Nor think anything. Nor allow herself to realize how utterly lucky she truly was.

_I'm alive. Living another day. Not a victim of nature._

Which made her ponder over the situation at hand.

At this moment, because of the hunter, whose name was Daryl, she was alive. And being tended to by members of his group.

_I know nothing about them, they know nothing about me. It's not a good idea to mingle._

This wasn't something Paige had an issue with. And she knew that despite how well she and Andrea had gotten along, the woman wouldn't have a problem with her departing either. It took a lot to earn her trust, that much Paige knew.

So, lingering around for another hour wasn't a terrible idea, especially if it meant she'd be getting her first meal in over a week.

She'd eat, get her sniper, thank them for their kindness, then head back to her own little fortress underneath the canopy. Now that she was more lucid, the journey there wouldn't be so difficult.

_I've been in this area for way too long. Soon as I get back, I'll have to pack and leave immediately. Can't afford-._

"Hello."

Blinking out of her reverie, Paige's eyes shot to the open screen door.

"Hello," she responded, studying the gray-haired, aged man. Who held tin foil with some sort of roasted meat inside.

_Sweet Jesus. _

The aroma followed soon after, invading her senses like an army does a fort. All she wanted, all she needed was just a taste of whatever spicy, smoked meat lay inside the tin foil. And the water she had so heavily consumed, suddenly didn't become much of a priority.

"It's all yours," the man gestured with a smile, offering her the foil.

Paige resisted the urge to grab at it and stuff it in her face.

Just barely.

Instead, she met the man's eyes.

"That's way too much meat."

The man studied the tin foil as if he was just seeing it for the first time.

"Actually, it's not enough," came his reply. "Not nearly enough to give you the energy you should have. But don't worry about us. You are in need of it far more than we are right now."

Her fingers flinched, but Paige still held back.

"What is it?"

"Rabbit. You're getting the back of it. Daryl shot it a few days ago. We wouldn't have brought it out unless for a special occasion."

_A day ago and I was telling the man to leave me alone. A day later and I'm eating the rabbit he shot. Irony at its finest._

"Thank you," she finally caved, accepting the foil with both hands.

She held no qualms about tearing in as her instincts told her to do, but because she was in the presence of someone who lived with a sense of civility, Paige merely bit and chewed at the meat for awhile before taking another piece.

"Not a problem. I'm Dale, by the way," he introduced.

"Hello, Dale."

When his gaze didn't falter, Paige ceased chewing.

"It's better if you don't know my name," she remarked. "I'm just a temporary resident."

"I don't ask to be nosy," he defended earnestly. "I ask because I need to know that there are still others out there, surviving in the best way they can. I ask because it gives me hope, even when I least care to see it."

The words stirred something inside her. Something so foreign that Paige didn't think she had felt it since the whole world first went to hell.

"There are others out there," she began, carefully deducing what parts to reveal. "Since I got out of Atlanta, I've either come across groups or just people on their own. I may not have gotten as comfortable with them as I am doing with you, but I have acknowledged them. And they are out there. Granted, this was over a month ago, but some of them never stopped searching for hope."

Dale nodded, silent for a moment.

"Was that your last contact with a person? Over a month ago?" he asked, failing to hide his amazement.

"Yes," she answered honestly, tearing apart the meat on her lap. Only moments ago, her tummy rumbled, but not out of hunger.

It rumbled because she was eating too quickly. And having gone so long without food, then suddenly scarfing it down, could do more harm than good.

Even though it physically ached for her to eat slowly.

_Had I known rabbit could taste so good..._

This thought momentarily made her blanch, remembering her old neighbor's pet rabbit.

"Something wrong with the meat?" Dale asked.

"No," she said, laughing a bit. "Just trying to eat this without feeling guilty. My old neighbor, Pearl, owned a rabbit. Copperfield, she called him. Hated Charles Dickens so much that she used David Copperfield, the book we had to read my senior year in order to pass English, as a place for him to go to the bathroom."

Dale chuckled at this, scratching the back of his head.

"Didn't the teacher notice the book's appearance?"

"Absolutely. But she never wrote our book numbers down so she never figured out who did it."

The memory pulsed with nostalgia, sweet and heavysome, but Paige firmly pushed it away, knowing that sentimentalism was not the road to go. At least not now.

"Would you like to meet everybody?"

Paige's eyes widened.

"That's-that's okay, Dale. Really, I'm just trying to get used to eating again. Maybe later on?"

Lie.

"Then I'll let you get through it. I know you're only holding back because of me. If you need anything, just holler."

Thanking the man, Paige watched him retreat, uneasily.

_Why the hell do I feel like leaving here won't be so simple?_

Biting back her discomfort, Paige continued chowing on the meat, not even realizing that for the first time in what seemed forever, her tummy grumbled rather than shook with cramps.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

"What's she like?" Glenn asked.

Dale and Andrea glanced at each other, initially unsure of how to begin.

"Private," she revealed first, eyes falling to the flames.

"Smart," Dale followed. "But I don't believe she has any intention of staying here tonight."

"Then she's not very smart at all," Carl interjected, looking to his dad. "If she thinks going back out there is better than staying here where she has protection and food, then I don't think she's smart."

No one responded, knowing Carl could not yet see the possible danger in allowing a complete stranger to stay with them.

"I heard some yells," Carol recalled.

"Nightmares," Andrea mentioned, running both hands wearily through her hair. "Nearly clawed my eyes out when she woke up."

"Dangerous?" Shane inquired.

"Too soon to tell. Might be. But I don't think she'd hurt someone randomly. Despite not trusting us enough to give a name, I think she's relatively harmless unless she's in defense mode."

A quietness seeped into the evening, the air just a bit less humid than the night before.

"So...she wants to leave?" Lori inferred, running her fingers through Carl's hair. "That doesn't seem like a problem. Let her go."

"We just spent two hours making sure she didn't die," Shane defended, throwing a glare at her. "Like hell I'm going to watch her go back into the woods. I don't like the idea of taking in strays either, but if she's not violent and she keeps to herself, then I don't see the harm in letting her stay the night."

"T-Dog?" Rick asked, finding the man's slumped form around the fire.

"Haven't met the girl," he voiced. "I don't wanna say kick her out, but we've gone a long time without any trouble. Maybe her wanting to leave isn't such a bad thing."

"I know we've all seen it, but I don't think anyone's realized it yet," Glenn remarked firmly, studying each person. "She nearly died. Throwing her back out after a few hours is basically like saying we never helped her in the first place. I know you weren't in there, Rick, but she didn't look like she'd survive another minute. I have no idea how she managed two months by herself."

"Once again, everyone is against me," Lori muttered, looking off into the woods.

Rick sighed, rubbing at his chin.

"Alright," he announced, palms balancing on each knee. "We're gonna have a show of hands. Raise 'em now if you don't mind her staying the night."

Glenn, Dale, Andrea, and Shane all showed their hands.

"Show of hands now of the people who don't mind providing her with food and sending her on the way within the next few hours."

T-Dog, Lori, Carol, and Sophia (with a whisper from her mother) raised their hands.

"Wait, if Sophia can vote, so can I," Carl exclaimed, throwing his hand in the air. "I vote for her to stay the night."

"Carl," Lori warned, her stare bringing his hand back down. "We don't know who she is or whether she planned this whole thing just to get into a camp that'll feed her."

"Are you serious?" Andrea questioned indignantly. "Of course she purposely dehydrated and starved herself so Daryl could bring her back to our camp. That's exactly what happened. And Carol...I get that you want to do what's best for Sophia, but you were in there, helping cool her body down so the heat wouldn't take her. You know she won't be able to last if we throw her out tonight."

Carol stayed mute at the accusation.

"Andrea is right," Dale piped in. "If we start turning away people in need of help, no matter how reserved, what will that say about us? What kind of people will we become?"

No one spoke after this thought, busy processing their own.

"Up to you, man," Shane relayed, clapping Rick on the back.

"Ain't nobody gonna ask 'bout my vote?"

Startled, the group turned their way to the darkened trail, peering at Daryl's materialized from.

A visible anger marred the hunter's features, followed by a visible glance of disgust at Lori.

"Oh don't look at me like that," Lori scolded, holding up a hand. "You don't know who she is. Just because you rescued her doesn't mean she won't get used to it or want something from us now that she knows we have food and supplies."

If possible, Daryl's stare only grew dirtier.

But it took a surprisingly long moment for him to speak.

"Girl wants to be isolated," he noted. "Even if y'all stop bickerin' enough to agree to let her spend the night, she ain't gonna 'cept the offer."

"What are you asking for?" Rick replied, moving to stand. "Because I personally have no argument against letting her stay for the night-."

Lori rolled her eyes at this.

"-but you know her better than any of us. What do you think we should do?"

For the first time in months, the role of power shifted from Rick to Daryl. And even though the shift was brief, Daryl felt his respect for Rick grow just a bit deeper.

Grudgingly.

"Get her to stay," Daryl stated. "She thinks she can handle it, but right now, you set her out there and she might not make it through the end o' the week."

"We were having a vote on it," Lori stubbornly input.

"And as far as I know 'bout politics, we've got a tie," Daryl bit back. "I vote for her stayin' the night. Five t'a four. End of elections, lady."

"How'd you meet her?" Shane suddenly questioned, having been staring intensely at Daryl for the past few minutes.

"Why'd that matter?" he defended suspiciously.

"You go from protecting only your ass to protecting someone else's. Maybe I just wanna know how to get on your good side."

Daryl stayed silent, leaving the unsaid words to filter in through everyone's imaginations, allowing them to wonder what inspired such compassion inside of Daryl Dixon as to save the life of a person he'd met on two separate occasions.

"I ain't screwin' her," Daryl retorted angrily.

"Never said you were," Shane easily remarked, ignoring Carol's attempt at shielding Sophia's ears. "But you gotta admit, Rick, it's weird, ain't it? Good weird, I think."

Shane's wording stirred a memory loose in Rick's head.

It regarded what Daryl had said to him earlier in the afternoon. About why he saved her life.

_"We're even now."_

Daryl recognized the exact moment Rick figured out his reasoning to keep the Grass Fox at camp for the night, but to his surprise, the deputy remained silent on that issue.

"It doesn't matter how Daryl knew her. What matters is that he saved her life," Rick acknowledged. "That's more I can say for most of us who are contemplating throwing her back out just because we're nervous about her reluctance to speak. I'm sure you all haven't forgotten. The world is a mess out there. Undead eating the living. The living we've probably been lucky not to stumble upon, probably worse than the dead. And now we're thinking about turning someone away just because we don't know their private thoughts. From what I've seen of her, I'm guessing she's seen far more of the world than we have. And that ain't something I'm going to hold against her. Especially not tonight."

Dale and Glenn were the most visibly relieved at these words, but Lori crossed her arms angrily.

"Someone keep an eye on her tonight," she warned. "I want to know Carl will be safe."

"I don't plan on staying the night."

Once again, the group had to rotate their heads, along with Daryl, as they took in Paige's form standing a few feet from the camper. She probably could have remained in the shadows all night without detection, had she not spoken.

"And since it's been a bit of an issue that's gotten between you all, I'll be comfortable departing now," she announced. "Thank you to everyone who helped save my life. I'll remember it."

No one made a move.

"My sniper," she expressed, turning to face Daryl. "I'm to guess it's with you. Could I have it so I can be on my way?"

"It's dark out," Andrea argued. "You'll hardly be able to see, much less fend off a walker with the energy you have."

"It is," Paige agreed. "But I've traveled through later hours. And the walkers don't stop just because we go to sleep. As to my energy level...well, eating that rabbit and downing three canteens of water was like being baptized in the Jordan River. And with my sniper, I feel safer than ever. Now...Daryl is it? Thank you for saving my life. But quite honestly, I've got this feeling that you only want me here because you feel you owe me for what happened last evening. I'm here to tell you - you don't. So, I'm asking again for _my_ sniper back. Please."

Daryl only stared at her, face revealing nothing about his thoughts. But his lips parted.

"I ain't gonna force you to stay, but you'd be stupid to go back out there."

"You certainly have a way with words," Paige noted, the corner of one lip threatening to quirk up. "Daryl, give me back my sniper, please. You do this and everyone here will be able to sleep safely tonight, never having to worry if I'll slaughter their children like I so very much like to do."

At these words, Lori froze, knowing Paige had heard her complaints.

Glenn bit down on his chuckle, watching the exchange.

Indeed, something electric stirred in the air between the hunter and Grass Fox, only increasing the longer they held on to their stares, and once again, Glenn pondered over what could have happened the first time they met that made Daryl say everything short of asking her to stay.

"Ma'am?"

Retracting her stare, Paige searched for the source of the voice.

"My name is Rick," the man said once she'd located him.

"I understand, Rick, I truly do," Paige sighed out, recalling what Andrea had said about the man. "I was the leader of a group once. Granted, lives didn't depend on me, but the stress is there. I'm here to say that I am not your problem. And I mean no disrespect by this. It's just a fact. Y'all helped me out, got me on my feet, put some food in me, but I am telling you now that I'm fine. And that I want to leave. How unreasonable is that?"

When Rick didn't answer immediately, Paige began feeling the first signs of weariness seep in. She was hoping to hide it until the woods were around her and Winston sat in her palm.

But the longer she stood, defending her right to leave, the more she felt like dropping into the dirt and taking a long nap.

_What has it been...a month since I've had a rest consisting of more than six hours?_

"You are free to leave at any moment," Rick agreed, meeting Daryl's eyes. "But I really think it'd be best if you stayed the night. I don't know how long you've been traveling or what you've seen out there, but your appearance before you were cleaned up let me know that you need to rest without the fear of what could get you. We always have someone up each night, standing guard. We have food and water, something you'll eventually need more of. And you'll have a place to sleep that isn't the ground."

"How do you know I-?"

"The disposition in your back when Daryl carried you in," Rick pointed out. "I remember my dad having the same sort of back issues after leaving Vietnam. He stayed there for three years, sleeping on the ground more often than not so they weren't hit by a surprise attack."

"Grandpa fought in a war?" Carl asked excitedly.

The exchange between father and son forced Paige to truly reconsider her quest.

Yes, she wanted to leave as soon as possible. Yes, she had reasons to back up her impulse. Yes, she had a difficult time trusting people now that the world stripped bare all false pretenses and simply showed the man that was.

But Rick had a point. While far more energetic than hours before, Paige could feel it start to wane a bit. And the desire for water never quite left.

Most of all, he'd enticed her with a simple promise.

A night of actual slumber. Something she needed with a desperate need.

"Okay," she grumbled out, lowering her head in defeat. "Okay."

"Hate to be the one that says this," T-Dog interrupted, "but where she gonna sleep? Dale and Andrea each got a camper bed. You, Lori, and Carl got your tent. Carol and Sophia got theirs. Glenn and I take turns sleeping on the cot, and whoever ain't on the cot, takes watch. Shane's got his tent too, but I think Glenn is watching tonight."

It was obvious Rick hadn't even thought about the sleeping arrangements yet, and without meaning to, Paige's eyes found the woods behind him, a yearning inside her, really more of instinct, telling her that there's still a chance to leave.

And just as she readied herself to voice this, Daryl spoke up.

"I got room in my tent."

Paige glanced at Daryl curiously.

"Still got some o' Merle's blankets. He always kept a lot. Less he ate, colder he got," he explained.

"Are they even sanitary?" Andrea blurted.

Daryl narrowed his eyes, but no real agitation mirrored itself there.

"I'll use his. She can use mine. Hardly ever do myself."

"And that's more sanitary?" Lori asked with a furrow of the brows.

"'Least I ain't thinkin' of ways t'a kick out the girl your husband's payin' more attention to," he snapped.

Paige's eyebrows shot up as Daryl aimed a final glare at Lori before stomping off into the darkness, angry mumbles jumbled underneath his lips.

_And that will be my roommate. Fun._

"Will you be alright with that arrangement?" Rick asked, one hand bringing Lori to him as he tried shaking off the comment. "If not, I can-."

"You've done more than enough," she assured. "I'll just go follow the angry curses. That should lead me to him."

This time, Glenn didn't hold back his laugh.

"Shame you're just staying for the night," he said. "You make things interesting."

"Bunk with me for a week and you'll wish you never said that," Paige confirmed, feet shuffling over each other. "Night. Thanks again."

She received a nod from everyone except Lori who spoke in hushed tones with her husband.

"I'm sorry about wanting to kick you out," Carol remarked before Paige retreated into the darkness. "It's just that...we haven't met anyone in a long time. It's difficult, trusting new people."

Paige nodded, fighting the urge to frown.

"I understand," was all she said.

And with that, she followed the general direction Daryl had stomped into, hoping that the night would provide just what Rick had promised.

* * *

**The reason I had such a big discussion among the group regarding Paige is because I see it as this. For a whole month, there has been relative tranquility with the group. Yeah, it's been tough, but there have been no more deaths or scary run ins with potentially dangerous people. But here pops out this woman who keeps to herself like she almost has something to hide, and I can't say everyone in the group will be accepting of her. I didn't try to stereotype anyone who was against Paige staying. T-Dog I feel can be swayed either way, depending on what's best for him or the group. Carol just wants to keep Sophia safe after the high way incident. And Sophia is obviously getting swayed by her mother's vote. However, I am stereotyping Lori. Because quite honestly, she can be a real bitch. But then again, it's kind of fun to write the bitch of the story. Maybe I'll soften her up. Who knows. I do hope you enjoyed that though. Let me know your thoughts in a review.**


	4. Turtle Soup

**Thank you, as always, for the reviews. While few, they serve their purpose. Pure, uncensored, inspiration. Which is an awesome feeling. But nerve-wracking as well because it feels like the more interest I pick up in a story, the harder it is to write since there's an audience that could be displeased with where the story is headed. But I've learned many stories ago that you can't please everyone and either you like what I write, or you don't. Simple as that. But to the reviewer who said they wouldn't mind bunking down with Daryl, I know what you mean *insert winky face*. Although, our bunking would hardly be appropriate *insert another winky face*. Thank goodness I have Paige to balance me out. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Turtle Soup**

Paige must have been staring at the tent roof for twenty minutes straight before finally accepting that sleep wouldn't come to her. No matter how utterly exhausted her body felt or how little energy sat stored inside her bones, the ability to dive into slumber remained an elusive quest.

So, she took to listening to the storm brewing outside the tent flaps.

Not even an hour after Daryl invited her to bunk down with him, the wind unexpectedly picked up, speeding through the leaves, plucking them off like berries from a bush and sending enigmatic whistles through the night. And in the distance, thunder rolled through the dark sky, bringing the promise of rain and lightning.

She refrained from asking Daryl what would happen if the ground flooded or their tent got struck by lightning. The man in general seemed to be in a foul mood, only gesturing with a hand to the pile of blankets on the ground for her before moving to the opposite side of the tent and getting situated with his own.

Then, he'd simply flipped his body on his side, back toward her, and stayed quiet.

The last thing she wanted was to anger him, so she followed relatively the same pattern.

Trouble was, while her body lay dormant, her mind ran like a never ending marathon. Buzzing, pondering, and hyped up from finally attaining food. Good food, at that.

Any other person from the group, with the exception of Lori who just didn't sit right with her, she'd have started up a conversation with.

But Daryl...well, he was Daryl. And Paige just had to observe the group's reaction to him to know that the man stayed brutally silent on normal occasions.

So, in her head, she labeled him the outcast. The odd one out.

_Nothing wrong with that. Lord knows I've had my share of experiences in that category._

Ten minutes passed by, each second being silently counted by Paige, and yet the time failed to make any sort of drowsiness possible.

_And to think people recommend counting sheep. Christ, that'll make you insane before sleep even hits you._

An idea struck in the midst of this restlessness and with a quick glance at Daryl's stiff form, Paige slowly lifted herself up, eyes finding the tent flap through the dimness of the shelter.

One hand moved away the blankets on her lap and with a held breath, she positioned herself to crawl forward.

"What're you doin'?"

Tensing up, Paige shot a glance behind her.

Daryl still laid in the same position, eyes trailed to the opposite of the tent.

And yet, his senses were unnaturally keen.

"Going to find Glenn," she reasoned. "I want to talk and he treated me like I wasn't the plague. Plus, my brain is refusing to stay still."

"He don't need you distractin' him," came the retort.

Frowning, Paige scanned the tent flap once more.

"I get I've put you in an awkward position," she stated after a calm exhale. "Having to take care of the stranger no one trusts, nor likes. But for tonight, please save me from having to deal with your hostilities. Or your anger. I've felt enough of it to last a life time."

She knew without watching that her words forced him to flip over, most likely to his other side so he could see her.

"You don't know what I'm feelin'," he accused.

Rolling her eyes, Paige grabbed at a blanket she'd discarded, and tugged it over her, slumping back down to the ground.

An anger oozed into her system, but she wrestled it down, knowing defending herself now wasn't worth it.

And yet, the hyperactiveness of her brain didn't get the memo.

"No one asked you to save my life. But let this serve as a future reminder. If you're going to regret saving someone's life later on, it's probably a good idea not to do it in the first place."

More bitterness laced the statement than she wanted, but Paige was done listening to the man's bipolar attitude towards her presence.

One moment, he saved her. The next moment, he dumped her into the arms of another person and ran off. Moment after that, he'd told her to stay put and offered a place to sleep. Followed by a cranky attitude and an unpredictable moodiness.

He was like a menopausal woman.

"I don't regret savin' your life."

Paige snuggled down deeper in the blanket, releasing a quiet sigh. The harshness of the wind successfully drowned it out.

"Could've fooled me," she murmured.

Neither said a word after this, instead, busying themselves with listening to the howls of the wind and rumble of thunder growing closer. Just the ferocity of the storm could be determined in the claps above.

"It's nearly September, isn't it?" Paige inquired, needing to break the silence somehow, even if it meant directing his annoyance toward her.

"Sounds 'bout right," he answered a moment later.

"That means hurricane season has started already. All the survivors living on the Gulf coast...they won't realize it's there until...it's there."

"Hadn't even thought of that," Daryl realized. "Maybe one's hit already and we're 'bout to get bits of what's left."

Paige chuckled to herself, but there layed no amusement in it.

"People eating people. Natural disasters. I almost want to believe in God just so I can ask him what the hell his problem is."

"You never struck me as the atheist type," the hunter noted, scanning her with a squint.

"I wasn't," she answered in surprise, wondering why she was speaking about her lack of faith in the first place. "I used to believe in God. Went to church nearly every Sunday. Prayed when family members got sick, thanked God when they got better, and gave away parts of my allowance to a town hospital."

"Must've been somethin' big to make ya lose all that faith."

Rather than pity or accusation, Paige detected curiosity in Daryl's voice. Something she was truly relieved to hear. The few other times she'd relayed her personal beliefs to friends, they'd looked down on her for losing faith so easily. And for the longest time, she felt a fair amount of guilt for it.

"It was," she agreed, forcing herself to stop there. Otherwise, all her secrets would be pouring out like a waterfall and minutes ago, Paige already established that Daryl wanted nothing to do with her.

_Which is why he offered me his tent to stay in for the night. Could I have met a more confusing man?_

Slowly, Paige rolled over to her other side.

Only to come in contact with Daryl's stare, firmly trained on her, as usual, giving away little of what he thought.

An unfamiliar tingle jolted inside Paige's tummy, amplifying the more she noticed how intense the stare truly was. As if he himself couldn't quite contain it.

_He's staring at me as if-._

"Who's Merle?"

The question successfully broke the eye contact, and with a grimace, Daryl pushed himself on his back, eyes forced up.

But he didn't answer the question. At least not right away.

"Why you wanna know?" he demanded roughly. "This ain't a therapy session to talk 'bout our feelin's."

"I've been in therapy," she responded softly, "and it's nothing like what we're doing now. Honestly, I'm just relieved you're talking to me. If I have to listen to the silence in my head for one more minute, I think I'm going to explode."

He didn't seem convinced, so she continued, "You don't have to answer the question. I can tell already he was someone close. But please...don't shut yourself off. I haven't chatted with another person for over a month. I _need_ to talk. I need to make sure the hermit life I've taken on hasn't made me crazy."

Daryl glanced at her, lips set in a line.

"You don't go speakin' a word of this to anyone else, you understand?"

"What happens in the tent, stays in the tent," she promised, offering him a smile. "Although...I can't see why what you feel should be something to hide from others."

"Feelin's are for pussies," came the immediate retort.

Paige laughed. Loudly. So loudly in fact that her entire form shook as a result, eyes slamming shut.

Once she'd opened them again, Daryl's narrowed gaze aimed itself on her.

"Sorry," she apologized, covering her mouth with a hand. "That was rude of me. Who is the contributor of that brand of wisdom?"

When he didn't answer, Paige took a guess of her own.

"Merle?"

"He's a lot smarter than ya think."

"He's your brother, I take it?" she confirmed. "Because if it was say a son, I think I'd be a bit concerned."

"Don't have any children," he revealed, scrunching his features up a bit. "Worst thing to have right now."

Paige only nodded back, knowing how true the statement really was.

Daryl stayed quiet for a minute, thoughts somewhere else completely.

"I can see you loved him a lot."

The man only released a disbelieving snort.

"You've still got his blankets. And I'm guessing some of his supplies around here too," she observed. "You haven't touched any of it because you think he'll come back. I don't care if feelings are for pussies and blow torches are for nuns, that shows love."

When she still failed to garner a response, Paige lowered herself on her back, a wee bit discouraged.

_Maybe I went to far with it? Should have stopped when I knew the topic was sensitive to him. Damn it, why do I always do that?_

The familiar waves of guilt rushed through her, making Paige wish she'd never opened her mouth in the first place.

"He didn't get along wit' the rest o' the group," Daryl suddenly spoke.

Masking her surprise, Paige turned her head toward him.

"How's that?"

If possible, Daryl's grimace sank even deeper.

"He liked makin' the rules, never followin' them. Had a problem wit' nearly the whole world. But he counted on me to survive with him."

"You were brothers. Nothing wrong with that," she agreed. "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Don't fuckin' care," he grunted. "Went into Atlanta wit' some o' the group to get supplies. They left him chained to the fuckin' rooftop of a department store."

Paige flinched at the venom in his tone.

"That's terrible."

Daryl shrugged, shutting his eyes.

"They said he was holdin' them back. Woulda gotten them killed."

He then laughed, but it came out much of the way her own laugh had. Drained of humor.

"The real fucked up thing is I understood why they did it before I even got angry."

"That's not fucked up," she reasoned. "You obviously still love him. Otherwise, you wouldn't be holding on to his stuff. Every now and then, we have our weak moments toward the people we love, but we don't have to let those moments define us."

Daryl threw her a glare, mouth twisted. Just by the expression, Paige knew he didn't appreciate the sentiment, and with it would come a hostile response.

"Can you even cuss? You're what, sixteen?" he berated.

Her mouth dropped open before she could even contain the shock, and a blush erupted through her cheeks when Daryl began laughing. Openly, and with actual humor in his voice.

"Just turned 23!" she exclaimed. "I assure you I'm very entitled to say fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuckity, fuck."

"23?" he repeated, laughter dying. "Bullshit. You ain't older than 21."

"Last thing I bought before the outbreak was a bottle of Smirnoff. I've still got half of it left underneath my canopy in the woods," she defended. "Only use it for setting fires. Don't drink it anymore because it only makes me more dehydrated. And the last thing I want to be is drunk considering who I could run into."

"Merle shot better when he was buzzed."

"Now that's fucked up," Paige pointed out.

This earned another chuckle out of the man, and this time, Paige couldn't help but smile herself.

The first comfortable silence of the night rested itself between them, and as a result, Paige felt herself grow just a little bit more tired.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Ain't gonna guarantee I'll answer," Daryl replied. "I ain't the talkin' and revealin' type."

"That's fair," she acknowledged. "I just want to know...who were you before the apocalypse?"

He threw Paige a confused glance. "Don't understand what y'er askin'."

"It is kind of vague, isn't it? I guess...tell me what you did for a job. Where you lived. Any pets? Who you voted for in the last election."

"Why are you so suddenly curious 'bout me?"

_Because you can be incredibly open one moment, then a prom queen with PMS syndrome the next._

"Aren't I entitled to know a bit more about my rescuer?" she conceded, eying him with interest. "That and I am legitimately curious about you. I'll start out if that'd make you feel more comfortable."

"Go for it," he shrugged.

"Okay," she relayed, thinking back as she plopped her head back on a pillow. "I was a student in my last year of college before the apocalypse and in my free time, I worked at McDonalds so I could keep on affording college."

"Fast foods gives ya the shits," Daryl mumbled knowingly.

Choking back a laugh, Paige nodded to herself.

"I did have to tend to the bathrooms. Usually, I just did the girls room and that wasn't too bad. But I remember this one time, a co-worker - Brad - went into the men's bathroom and found that someone had shit all over the floor. They didn't even remotely try aiming for the toilet seat. Just shitted. Everywhere."

"That's fuckin' hilarious," Daryl expressed, fighting back a laugh of his own.

"Not if you were Brad. Poor guy had to clean the whole floor up. I think I would have quit on the spot if they'd asked me to do it," she revealed, failing to hide her sympathy.

She could even recall now, the manager gazing around at her crew workers, determining which one to send in.

"When I wasn't busy dealing with irate customers or essays, I lived in an apartment in Athens, Georgia which is about an hour and a half drive from Atlanta. The place was unusually cheap, but only because it was in the wrong part of town. Bad roads, possible prostitution. That kind of wrong part."

"Why'd you choose Athens?"

"Because I attended the University of Georgia."

"Ain't state schools more expensive?"

"Far more," she agreed. "But I was the first person in my family who'd be able to go to college. Even though it was costly, my parents did their best to pay for everything."

Daryl seemed sedated for a second, but she knew he had something else to say. So, she waited until that moment came.

"Don't know why people go to college when ya can learn just as much on your own. Expensive as hell. Plus, actually gettin' somewhere in life...it ain't gonna happen to everyone."

When she didn't answer right away, Daryl scanned her over.

"Offended you?"

"No," Paige managed back soberly. "It's just that...you're right."

"Didn't expect t'a hear that," he responded quizzically, still studying her.

"Well...I guess you've got to understand that I had expectations for college. I thought it'd lead me to success. I thought the tuition would be worth it. I thought I'd have the college experience. But, I guess I was a bit...disillusioned. Forgetting that a recession still gripped the country. And that I wasn't just competing for jobs on a national level, but an international one as well."

She paused for a moment, trying to figure out the next words. Even now, her wasted time at the university still managed to poison her mood.

"The pretty picture college representatives painted us, was far from what it really was like. By the time I was in my senior year, I felt cheated. Yeah, the parties were fun. And I became completely independent, something I've always longed for. But...the field I majored in, well, they were firing more people than hiring. And quite soon, I ran out of money to change to something else. My college rep at the admissions office, stopped returning my calls. So, basically if you ever had a secret fantasy of going to college, I'll tell you now - you didn't miss out on anything."

The sudden crack of lightning just a few miles out, jolted both of them from their spots.

For just a second, everything lit up, and Paige briefly thought how creepy and convenient it'd be for a walker to pop up. Typical horror movie atmosphere.

"Sucks 'bout the bad experience," Daryl offered.

"Considering that's you being sympathetic, thank you," Paige approved. "What was the next thing I'm suppose to tell you?"

"Pets."

Paige threw a hasty look at Daryl, pleasantly surprised at how quickly he'd remembered.

_Maybe my mindless rambling is helping him get to sleep as well. Gosh, that's depressing._

"I had no pets," she recalled. "I begged my mom for a turtle when I was eight. It was the year I broke my leg after falling out of a tree and I felt that if I could care for a pet that walked just as slow as me, I wouldn't feel so bad about being a cripple."

"Never got it?"

"Nope. My uncles were huge hunters. Went North every November for open season. My mom said she was afraid they'd make soup out of my turtle. That successfully scared me off from ever asking for a pet."

Daryl kept his mouth closed, but it only took a curious scan from Paige to know he had something to say.

"You've had turtle soup, haven't you?"

"You gonna get pissed if I say yes?" he answered back, observing her slightly wounded features.

"If you say you enjoyed it, I might."

"Have had it. Personally, tha soup's too thick. And tastes more like tuna, somethin' I couldn't stomach no matter how much Merle shoved it down my throat. But I'd never eat it if I knew it we're someone's pet."

"Thank you," she replied sincerely.

Their gazes stayed locked for an extra second before splitting off in different directions.

"I voted for Obama," Paige finally concluded, knowing a yawn rested in the bottom of her throat. "Unfortunately, no one will ever know if his goals for the country would have worked out. But let me say that as long as there are Republicans in this world, they'll find something to blame the president for. Case and point - this apocalypse. I can even see it in my head. Bush and some of his closest friends, huddled in a bomb shelter in the middle of Texas, complaining about how a black man getting elected and the apocalypse coming soon after, wasn't mere coincidence. And for just the tiniest second, I start to think maybe this apocalypse is a good thing. To filter out all the idiots from this world."

"Merle said 'Bama gettin' elected was the worst thing to happen to this country," Daryl added, risking a glance at her.

"Did you agree?" Paige inquired, making sure to keep her tone free of accusation.

Daryl blinked, refusing to speak for a few seconds.

"Jus' a skin color," he gruffly responded. "Don't determine whether you're a dumbass."

The statement, more or less, was what she wanted to hear. She already guessed Merle often had the say for the both of them, even if Daryl believed different.

The fact that Daryl did indeed have his own thoughts, his own views of the world and didn't cave just because his brother usually decided for him, made her see the man in a different light. A light she was sure not many of the people in his group saw him in.

"You're a...more fascinating guy than you give yourself credit for," Paige yawned, tightening the blankets around her as another crack of light spread through the sky. "Doesn't hurt to let others here see that. You've only got each other from now on."

She could practically feel the heat of Daryl's stare, but for the moment, closing her eyes to catch that elusive sleep, remained her number one priority.

"Oh," she gasped, popping open her eyes and setting them on the hunter. "We didn't even get to you. I can stay up a little longer and listen."

"Ya need the energy for tomorrow," came his excuse.

"You sure?" she followed, mimicking the squint he usually threw at her. "I'm a good listener."

"I don't need a therapist," he bluntly retorted.

Knowing that hostile Daryl would shortly make a reappearance if she kept on pestering him, Paige only shot him an apologetic smile.

"Night then."

With that, she turned over to her other side, wrapping the blankets tight around her.

Seconds later and not even the fear of a walker stumbling into camp, could keep her eyes open.

So, for the first time in over a month, Paige descended into a proper rest, tummy full and body calm.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Only when the Grass Fox's breaths were comin' out deep and far apart, did Daryl finally peek over at her.

_Shouldn'ta snapped at her. Only makin' small talk._

And to his discomfort, guilt followed this train of thought. It held no proper sense, or maybe it did, but Daryl was too anxious to figure it all out.

What he did know was that she didn't deserve the anger he'd assaulted her with.

Most of his bad mood came from his encounter with Lori. Being Rick's wife didn't change the fact that she was a bitch. In fact, it made him wonder how the hell the marriage lasted in the first place.

Unfortunately, this anger didn't budge, only growin' when the girl talked about wantin' to find Glenn.

Which was the last thing he wanted her to do. Even though it'd come out harshly, it didn't change what he meant. Distractin' Glenn might cost the entire group their lives. Plus, she needed to be restin' if she hoped to continue on tomorrow without passin' out.

But then she came back and accused him of not carin' that he had saved her life. And that, outta all things, leveled out his anger.

Instead, it let him know exactly what the girl thought of him and it didn't exactly please Daryl.

When she spoke up a few minutes later about hurricane season, Daryl answered just so he didn't have to seem like a bigger asshole than he probably already made himself out to be. He didn't know why he cared about how she saw him, but he knew that talkin' to her was somethin' he needed to do to not only calm himself down, but help make sure the girl got her rest for the next day.

And then before even he knew it, he'd started blabberin' on about Merle. And the Grass Fox actually listened, not accusin' him of bein' a dumbass like he was sure Shane or T-Dog would. 'Cause they had known Merle personally and felt no sympathy for his blatant racism and 'fuck you' attitude toward authority, Shane in particular.

Her neutrality and tolerance made it easier to speak about his rapidly confusin' feelings toward his brother, but also more dangerous.

He hadn't been lyin' when he'd told her he wasn't the discussin' type. 'Specially 'bout his feelings.

But somehow, when the Grass Fox began revealin' her life, how she felt suddenly didn't seem like what Merle would describe as pussy behavior. Outta all things, he sympathized wit' her. He didn't grow bored by what she had to say. And above all, in subtle ways, it sounded like she got screwed over more than she was lettin' on.

_I still don't even know her goddamn name._

And despite sharin' what she had, Daryl still recognized the instances when she purposely kept certain parts of her life closed off from him, only familiar because he found himself doing it so often throughout his life.

_Not even a name, though. What the hell is she afraid of?_

Daryl scanned her once more, this time with the knowledge that he would see her in a differentkt from now on. No longer was she just a ragged face to him, a weightless body, an elusive girl who'd saved his life. She had a story, a prior life, a reason for doin' what she did when she did it.

And that was more he could say for most relationships he'd had in his life.

It took awhile for this realization to sink in, and when it did, a brief flicker of alarm hit him. But it was outshined by what he wanted to know most.

Why she was alone.

The girl was interestin' enough to where people would want to be in her company. But, instead, she only had a single companion. A sniper she'd named Winston.

_Who would wanna be alone at such a messed up time? And not at least wanna stay with a group o' survivors just for a few days? Doesn't she even crave that contact?_

He didn't know, and the fact that he wanted to know, worried him. Especially since he knew she'd be bookin' it soon as she woke up. And he'd be left wonderin' for probably the rest of his life why she distanced herself the way she did when she had a decent personality.

_Decent? Shit. I nearly spilled my guts to her. Had to be goin' for psychology or some bullshit like that._

With a rough exhale, Daryl shut his eyes, hoping to shove out, like he'd done a night before, all thoughts of the Grass Fox. No need to get more concerned or attached than necessarily. She'd probably be gone by the time he woke up.

But like before, his method had little effect. And one final realization hit him as the ability to stay lucid, disassembled.

_Soon as I get my blankets back, they're gonna smell like her. And it ain't gonna be sweat I smell neither._

* * *

**So, Paige reveals a little more about herself, but can't seem to make Daryl do the same. Understandable. She's still a stranger to him. But he does reveal some personal thoughts, not without kicking himself later on because according to Merle, feelings are for pussies. Oh, and the McDonalds part is actually based on personal experience. I work at a McDonalds and I kid you not, a guy crapped all over the floor one day. A co-worker named Brad did have to clean it up. He quit a few weeks later, probably cause it was a shitty job (pun intended), but I felt undeniable sympathy for him. Luckily, we hired a maintenance guy who takes care of any sort of crap like that (another pun!). Anyways, let me know your thoughts in a review!**


	5. Safety and Comfort

**It's been a while, but here it is. I delve into Paige's back story just the tiniest bit, but over all, you'll probably be making your own assumptions by the end of this chapter. Really hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Safety and Comfort**

Paige shot up from the snarl of blankets, heart hammering against her ribcage painfully. It took a full minute this time around, to realize the reoccurring nightmare remained just that.

A nightmare.

But the fear did not lessen, causing a great tremble to shake her down to her bones as the sunlight just barely broke through the clouds outside, illuminating their tent to an almost fiery orange.

"Just a dream," she whispered firmly to herself, recalling Andrea's exact words. "I'm not there. I'm here, in a tent, safe."

By the time she managed to reassure herself of this, the tears threatening to crawl out of the corner of her eyes, dried up.

_In just one day, I've had this dream two times. I know what it means. To move on and stop hoping for permanent settlement._

A masculine, throaty groan echoed through the tent, startling Paige out of her reverie as she glanced to her left.

Daryl lay sprawled out on the blankets, resting on his stomach. His lips were half parted, and Paige wasn't able to determine wether his dream was pleasant or otherwise.

But the low noise made her smile.

Until her smile switched to a frown.

_Sweet Jesus, I'm getting attached. _

Disbelief followed this thought, reminding her that this was the last man on Earth who wanted someone to care for him.

And yet, the events of last night, the words transpired - hostile and epiphanic - gripped themselves in between the neurons of her brain, revealing to her one troubling fact.

She hadn't been this open with anyone since her brother was still alive.

_Really, we're on this thought now? Yeah, it's time to leave._

As quietly as she could, Paige threw off the blankets from her lap and made her way into a shaky stand up position. Not as much disorientation greeted her when compared to other mornings, but the thought still rested in the back of her mind that if she didn't find food and water immediately, Daryl's rescuing would have been in vain.

Another low sound stirred through the air, but Paige ignored it, fingers already working at the zipper.

She had to blink a few times once the tent flap was open, to not only take in the ascending brightness of the morning, but the storm's effects around her.

Branches were sprawled around the camp ground, appearing like severed, bruised arms, as were nearly half of all the leaves once native to the trees, painting the ground with reds and oranges and caramel yellows.

Altogether, the view was breathtaking for the sheer destruction the storm caused and the sheer beauty.

_You win once again, nature. Looking all beautiful while we attempt to survive you._

Risking a step out, her shoe immediately came down on soggy grass.

"It's going to be one of those days," she mumbled to herself.

A quick gaze to her right did manage to cheer her up, however.

Winston, still clean and still kicking, sat perched against a miniature log.

When Paige had a chance to step forward and inspect the weapon further, she noted a brown satchel tied to the butt of the sniper.

Confused, she knelt down and opened the bag.

"That son of a bitch," she murmured appreciatively, studying at least two casings of loaded ammo.

"That s'posed to be a compliment?"

Twirling around, Paige wearily eyed Daryl's form outside the tent.

_God damn, he's like a ninja. Ninja Daryl they should call him. _

"Considering your discomfort of being thanked, yes," she answered, finding her voice once more as a hand wrapped around the sniper. "I want to take your...generous offer, but what am I leaving you with in return?"

The tiniest bit of confusion dipped into Daryl's brow, but it quickly faded away.

"Still leavin' then?"

"It was never my plan to stay. Or your responsibility to take care of me," Paige pointed out, moving to stand.

Nodding, Daryl casted a glance around him for a moment, as if he was seeing the destruction for the first time.

"We can manage with what we got," he assured. "Don't know where you're goin' or how far away it is, but you're gonna need all the help you can get."

"I'm forcing myself to take that as a compliment," Paige smiled, hiking the satchel over one shoulder. "You might not like me for it, but I still feel obligated to say it. Thank you. For everything. Food, water, shelter, and ammo. I won't be forgetting that anytime soon."

Daryl only stared back at her, eyes squinted in that calculating way of his.

But he stayed quiet.

Throwing a final smile at him, Paige turned on her heels, beginning a march forward. She already formulated in her mind to swing through the camp where the others were hopefully still resting and sneak out where the trees were shoved further apart. Most likely, that'd be the best way back to the grasslands and ultimately, back to a probably former shelter now so she could pack up and keep heading west.

_Until I'm out of this state. Hell, I'll keep on going to Mexico if that's what it takes._

Unfortunately, Paige failed to understand that Daryl wasn't the only group member who had an inkling of waking up early.

"How was your sleep?" Dale called from the fire pit, mustering up a warm smile.

Forcing against the hesitance in her steps that would cause her to stop, Paige returned the smile, replying, "Just what I needed. Thank you."

"You're leaving already?"

This time, Paige had to halt, fighting back the need to sigh.

The boy, Lori's if she recalled correctly, watched her from the front of Dale's camper.

"I'm all better," she explained, noticing the restless stir of the other group members. T-Dog and Andrea had slipped out of the camper. Carol, in the process of wringing out a damp shirt, peeked up from her position by her tent, Sophia at her side. Glenn and Rick, having a conversation amongst themselves behind the camper, suddenly appeared.

By the time she'd given her answer, everyone was wide awake and watching her intently.

"Sure you don't want something to eat before you go?" Rick offered.

"The offer is tempting, but I've got to get going."

_I've been in this area for far too long._

"You can at least take some with you," Andrea pitched in. "A canteen?"

"You gave to me what you could. In a few months when you're running low on water and food, you'll be thankful I said no," Paige responded, wishing her tone didn't come off so ungrateful.

"You don't take the food now and you'll be dead in 'bout a week."

Paige carefully avoided gritting her teeth together as she turned behind her, observing Daryl, who for once in probably a long time, appeared like an actual member of the group.

"You may not know me very well, but understand this. I'm resourceful and I will adapt. Even if it means picking unripened berries or going through the winter with nothing but sunflower seeds. No one knows me better than I do," she defended, feeling insulted by the hunter's lack of faith in her survival skills. She'd made it two months, hadn't she?

Daryl's squint returned, but there actually appeared to be a retort ready to form on his lips.

Rick, however, intercepted whatever the hunter was going to say.

"Hope you make it safe out of these parts. And good luck."

Biting at her lip, Paige buried her head down, mind at work, deducing if it was even worth mentioning.

_I'll be spilling things I don't want others to know, but if the dreaming is an omen, then they deserve to know at least what could possibly be coming, if at all._

"Be careful," Paige expressed soberly, meeting Rick's eyes directly. "Of who enters your camp."

"Ain't the walkers bad enough?" Shane joked.

"I'm not talking about the dead," she revealed swiftly. "I'm talking about the living. It was a gamble taking me in, but I have been out there longer and I am offering you a warning of what type of people exist out there."

Rick nodded understandingly, but Paige knew the words were futile to the others because they remained so despondently vague.

Clenching her jaw, she disconnected her gaze and instead, set her sights on Carol and Sophia. And she would have kept on standing there, staring at them, if not for an interruption.

"Have you led people to us?" Lori demanded, hand reaching for Carl.

Blinking, Paige shook her head, disgusted at how difficult it was to say the right words.

"Your camp location goes to the grave with me," she assured. "But be wary of those...newcomers who travel in a pack."

"What kind of pack?" Rick continued, taking a step forward.

The compassion in his voice nearly caused her to sprint from her very spot.

But, she had to at least allow a final warning. Just so if worst came to worst, they'd have a chance.

_Could be nothing. Then I'll be scaring them without proper reason._

"If it's possible, tell them you have no women here," Paige announced, eyes back on Rick. "I realize that might be near impossible since it's not like you huddle all the females in one tent, guarding them, but in the end, if you can make them believe this, you'll have a better shot at surviving."

When no one followed up with a question, Paige finally allowed herself to begin walking again, head lowered, hand gripped tight around the satchel strap.

The group was still silent by the time she had entered the woods and with a determined march, she began forcing herself to substitute the luxury of being safe for the reality of a nomadic life.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Daryl sat inside his tent, eyes trained on where the Grass Fox had slept.

At least three hours had passed since she'd taken off, but her departin' words still buzzed insistently around his head. And accompanin' those confusin' words were even more conflictin' feelings.

_Runs off again, even though she had to have found some sorta comfort at being listened to last night. But before she does, leaves a fuckin' strange message._

He didn't know if the others had simply disregarded the warning, but Daryl had watched how difficult it was for the Grass Fox to form the words, to let out what the hell she wanted to.

And just in that way, he knew the message to be important.

A thousand scenarios ran through his head, and for once, he didn't hate himself for havin' his thoughts centered 'round her. Call him a pussy for it, but the girl...guess it'd be woman now, well...she wasn't half bad. At least won his trust. Hell she'd won it the day she'd saved his life, but he'd just been too stubborn to admit it.

The runnin' off into the woods with no food on her, made Daryl want t'a follow and try changin' her mind again. He didn't care how insistent she'd been 'bout her adaptation skills, the woman needed more food in 'er.

Yet, in this way, she was just as stubborn as he, refusin' help cause the only person who could help her survive was herself.

This realization didn't sink in for a moment, but when it did, Daryl felt just a little bit more knowledgable about the Grass Fox.

"Daryl?"

Shifting his eyes to the shadow outside his tent, Daryl grumbled, "What'd you want?"

"Just wondering if I could have a word."

"Don't care."

Rick entered a second later, throwing the hunter a neutral look.

"I came to talk about...the Grass Fox," he announced calmly.

"What 'bout her?"

"Everyone at camp is trying to figure out what she meant," Rick explained. "I guess I'd like to know your thoughts about it."

Unable to fight the instinct, Daryl tensed up.

"She ain't my responsibility no more. Don't know why the hell you askin' me."

Rick's gaze dropped to where the Grass Fox had layed. He didn't speak for a while, but by the concentration on his face, Daryl understood Rick had unresolved words to get out.

"I don't know what you're feelings are toward her. And I'm not here to question you about them. But I do know that to have someone save your life is a debt you can only hope to repay by the time you die. You were both there at the right time for each other. And like you said to me after bringin' her in, this made you even."

Daryl knew the sheriff had some sort of point to his speech and that made him uncommonly nervous 'cause Rick always had some sort of frustrain' way to make him see what he wasn't able to.

"You could've just stayed out here," Rick noted, eyes again searching the inside of the tent. "Was obviously the easiest choice. But instead, you came back to make sure she was okay and offered her a place to rest for the night. I don't know what you're calling that in your head, but I do know what I see it as. You caring for someone else. Doesn't mean I'm saying you'd risk your life for her again or that you suddenly are a changed man. But I've seen the difference her presence has made in you within just a few days. I don't need to know what they are, and I think you'd cut off a hand before telling me. But this information she just told us...you and I both know it's important."

One thumb moved to Daryl's mouth, pad pressing into the corner of his front teeth.

Rick did have a part of it right. He'd been different since comin' in contact with her.

But he also had it wrong.

Cared for her? Too strong of a word.

Wanted to make sure she didn't go get herself killed right after he saved her?

That sounded more plausible.

Still, that nagging voice at the back of his head who felt relief at momentarily being free from Merle, reminded him of last night.

He didn't exactly have college experience, hell, never made it past his freshman year of high school. But the Grass Fox, who spoke with all her grammar and had attended for four years at an expensive college, not once put him down for anythin' he'd said. And yeah, that might not be worth much to some people.

But to him, so used to keepin' his thoughts to himself, the ability to release at least some of what flew through his head, was an unknown relief.

_And I still don't know why the hell she's so spooked 'bout givin' me a name. _

"Daryl?"

The hunter bit down on his thumb. Hard.

"Had to have personally observed the group she was talkin' 'bout," Daryl surmised. "Don't know from how far away, though. Think it's known she don't like to stick in one place, or 'round people."

"I can only imagine what she had watched them do, or how long ago," Rick remarked. "We'll have to have two people on watch at nights and maybe travel in pairs if we leave the area. If she thinks there's a chance that they'll be headed this way, I want to be prepared for that."

Daryl nodded, but something in his gut still bothered him.

Actually, a lot did. The combined theory he and Rick produced, held a shitload of holes. Like if the Grass Fox had observed this group of people she'd warned against, would she really just stay there and watch, doin' nothin' to help whoever they'd been terrorizin'?

He'd been nothin' but a stranger to her, an obstacle to her unchanging, isolated life.

But she'd taken the shot, not knowing if he could be good or bad.

There was no way she would have watched the group without makin' some type of move.

"Shit," Daryl mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.

"What's wrong?"

Scratching at the back of his head, Daryl's eyes searched for his crossbow.

"I'm goin' to find her. Not all of what she said, adds up."

"I don't think anyone is protesting that," Rick agreed. "Andrea even offered to go. But I don't think now's the time. The last thing I want is for her to feel like she's being harassed. This might scare her off for good. In a few hours, we'll head out together."

Reluctantly, Daryl nodded.

Question now remained, how receptive to his presence would she be?

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Morning poured into the afternoon outrageously fast, and Paige still sat at what remained of her canopy.

Well...former canopy.

A branch had fell, slicing straight through the fabric.

All that lay underneath was an incredibly damp sleeping bag, five inch hunting knife she'd grabbed out of a thrift store, three empty bottles of water, a book bag able to hold all of this plus the extra two pairs of pants inside, and a half full bottle of Smirnoff.

Paige observed her destroyed space a bit dismally. Prior to the apocalypse, it'd been her longest place of residency. A full week, nearly.

But seeing it in its demolished state made her wonder if she'd ever find that place of true belonging. If anyone in this world ever would.

So, rather than booking it as she originally planned, Paige ended up relocating herself about a mile north.

She understood with a clarity that she needed to find food.

Badly.

This could no longer be pushed back as a second priority, and if searching for a sustainable amount meant spending one more night, then she'd just have to deal. The worst thing would be moving out with nothing to sate her, and then eventually prove Daryl right.

_How embarrassing it'd be if he found me again. I don't think he'd ever let me out of his sights again, much less let me live it down._

So, once her new area had been set up, far more vulnerable since nothing could block her from outside eyes, she took to memorizing her area before branching off to search for food.

Had she Daryl's stealth, a squirrel she'd seen could have been her supper for the night.

But when it came to stalking animals, she was like the buzzing cell phone at a somber funeral. Everybody picked up on her.

Forgetting the idea of having something as delicious as animal again, her eyes went back to scanning bushes and creepers.

She guessed mid-August had passed already since when she finally did stumble upon some berries, they held little of their green color. Instead, the dewberries retained their succulent violet and Paige once again had to restrain herself from gulping down the entire bush.

She uncapped a water bottle she'd brought along and worked on sliding the berries through the hole. The outside of the water bottle remained scuffed with dirt, but the inside was free of all harmful toxins and as Paige learned earlier, helped keep the berries better preserved.

A few did manage to find themselves in her tummy, but she figured she could risk it considering she'd high tailed it before eating breakfast.

Once the bush was cleared off, successfully filling up to a little over halfway of her bottle, Paige wiped the reddish stains from her fingers before continuing on.

Weeks ago, before starvation had eaten at her insides, Paige had been lucky enough to find prickly pears growing on some low lying plants near the forest floor. After cleaning off the spines and glochids with her knife, she'd indulged in her first pig out since the apocalypse began.

This edible plant was a rarity because it retained enough in just two leaves to make one feel like they've eaten a whole meal.

Her biggest regret now remained not having picked them all off as soon as finding them. She'd gone to rest for the night, south of where she'd found the plant, and upon awaking, realized a walker had trampled all over the area, bloodying up the source of food.

She tried maintaining that she didn't hunt down that walker solely because he'd stolen her only source of food. And eventually, she found him.-

He'd gotten tripped up in a thorn bush a mile west and rather than panic about how close to her sleeping place he'd been, Paige raised Winston up and ridded the world of one more undead bastard.

While trying not to take it personally.

Right now, just the thought of the citrus on her tongue, made Paige long for a trip north again. Surely there could have been more of the plants scattered around the area.

However, her mind reminded her why the desertion had been mandatory. And with a grimace, she continued on.

Within two more hours of searching and watching the sun steadily creep toward the horizon, Paige managed to find three more dewberry bushes. They successfully filled up two of her water bottles completely, and she was just ready to uncap the third when the snap of a branch behind her, caused her back to stiffen.

The urge to grab Winston from her shoulder, had to be squelched for the moment. At least until she made sure what the noise was.

Instead, she slipped the knife from her front pocket, gripping it until her knuckles turned white. The August weather suddenly seemed cold and gloomy, despite the glaring heat of the sun. All birds ceased their squalling as if sensing something as well. Not even the wind, so unstable the night before, wanted to make its presence known.

Biting down on her lip, Paige spun around, dropping to one knee with knife extended.

Only to find a doe's head peeking out from behind a tree twenty feet ahead, black eyes blinking curiously at her.

She refrained from having a heart attack, shoulders relaxing as the deer continued to blink. The urge to speak to it, rose unexpectedly, but considering she'd already named her sniper and talked to it on occasion, she thought it'd be best to leave the doe alone from the crazy woman.

Quite rapidly, this peace disintegrated.

The second snap of a branch, far closer, caused the doe to scamper to its left. And immediately, Paige tucked back her knife, hands fumbling for Winston.

By the time more branches were breaking apart, the sniper was properly set upon her shoulder, eye glued to the mass of trees the loud snaps were coming from.

Her finger sat curled around the trigger, 100% sure the footsteps belonged to a walker. No one besides herself walked so clumsily through the woods.

When the branches suddenly stopped snapping, Paige's heart beat nearly ceased altogether.

And it remained in a fragile state of indecision, even when the figure popped out from between two trees, teeth snarling at her, eyes lost from any of its former humanity, green uniform torn and bloodied.

The figure was a walker, but Paige nearly let loose a shocked sob at the familiar face.

Her eyes snapped shut for a moment, helpless to fight the returning memory. The memory tangled within her nightmares.

_"You need help? We're sheltering some survivors at a makeshift base just up the road."_

Again, she shuddered, even as the walker set its feral gaze on her.

_"Yeah, I don't doubt you. You'll get what Atlanta couldn't provide. Safety and comfort."_

A rabid snarl sprouted from the man's lips, and the sound forced Paige's finger to release back over the trigger without thought, sending a bullet straight through the former cadet's eye.

He crumbled to the ground, flailing a bit, but dying almost immediately.

Paige only stared, eyes now wide open, hands trembling, heart beat rocketing up its rate.

_It's him. Sweet Jesus, it's him. _

She knew his name, but the memories associated with it made her purposefully forgetful. If she forgot his name, perhaps she'd forget what happened after she'd followed his promise of safety and comfort.

Slowly, Paige urged her body to calm down, but minutes passed by before she even thought to lower Winston.

_He's been bitten, obviously. And...he's made it this far._

All of a sudden, she did lower her weapon. Threw it to the ground to be more precise.

Both arms went to hug either side of her as she fell to her butt on the leaves, unable to fight the shakes rattling her. Her nightmares readied themselves to play before her eyes, but she stubbornly kept them back, focusing on keeping her breaths even.

_Get it together, Paige. Now! He's dead. Entirely. _

Exhaling, Paige's eyes traveled to his dead form, particularly on his camouflaged green uniform.

"You fucking bastard," she spat suddenly, momentarily channeling all her anger at the dead man.

This time, the tears came. Not in overwhelming numbers, but a few stray trickles over her dry cheeks.

She would have stayed there well into the night, glaring at the dead man, sitting on the leaf strewn ground, if not for another noise breaching the cool air, undeterminable, but there nonetheless

Paige shot up from her position, eyes scanning the area wildly. The noise came from far away, but she no longer wished to stick around to see who her surprise visitor could be.

_Forget staying the night. Forget looking for more food. I have to leave. Now._

Throwing Winston back over her shoulder, Paige retracted her knife and broke into a jog through the brush, focused on making it to camp in the rapidly falling darkness. Once everything was packed, she would run as far as her legs could carry her.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Daryl instantly stopped in place when the shot ran out, hands instinctively clutching his crossbow tighter. It sounded maybe three miles north, but he couldn't tell initially.

Nothing else pierced the sound waves, however, so he redirected his path toward the source of the gun shot. A part of him momentarily froze up at the thought that the Grass Fox could be hurt, but he quickly shrugged this off, knowing the woman to be thick skinned. And from the sound of the sniper, she knew what she was doin'.

As the sun began retreatin', Daryl forced himself to think only of his trackin' rather than the woman. Which was really fuckin' ironic since it'd nearly always been the other way around before. Thinkin' of huntin' when he was with a woman cause usually, the types Merle picked out for him, didn't know how to shut the hell up.

He wondered briefly if Merle did this intentionally so he'd take to hittin' them just as he had.

But his patience never snapped as quickly as his brother's, and thinkin' about the woods always calmed him.

This time, it was the other way around.

_Fuckin' women._

The thought nearly caused him to laugh.

About forty-five minutes later and Daryl finally found the recipient of the Grass Fox's fury.

According to the wound, she'd shot him from up close, and he just had to look at the diameter of the shot and see bits of the bullet fightin' its way outta the walker's brain, to know she'd used one of the bullets he'd stocked her with.

_Why tha hell you'd let him get so close?_

This was when Daryl actually decided to take a proper look at who she'd shot.

The man, from what he could pick out in the growing darkness, had to be relatively young. Also military, _Private Elijah Matthews_ having been stenciled into the fabric of his uniform.

Other than that, Daryl didn't know what coulda possibly spooked her.

And he didn't like the feelin' he was gettin' from the encounter either. It seemed sloppy...and personal.

So, with a last scan of the walker, he continued on, relieved to have finally picked up the Grass Fox's trail, but unnerved at how erratic and careless it was gettin'.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Paige's fingers shook as she zipped up her book bag, water bottles safely stored inside. Her lungs burned from the jog back, but she disregarded the discomfort, moving instead to rolling up the sleeping bag.

The tiniest line just above the horizon still blinked with an orange ember, but otherwise, one could assume night time had descended.

Paige worked diligently, paying no mind to the darkness around her. She knew traveling at night when the walkers were more restless, was a huge risk.

But considering who she'd encountered, that risk was willing to be made.

_If he was there...the others...they can't be far behind. Granted...he was dead, but he'd died close to here._

This reoccurring thought did not cease to instill panic in her.

_I knew staying here for so long was a bad idea. I knew it. Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Her frustration kept forcing her fingers to slide over the zipper, properly cold now for the first time in a long while. With a growl, she opened her book bag again and started to smother the sleeping bag down in the remaining room.

"Well, shit Private Lewis, look who we have here."

For a moment, Paige forgot to breathe entirely, fear petrifying her form.

Only dread made her turn her head into the direction of the voice.

"Didn't think you'd be seeing us again, huh, sweetheart?" the second man laughed in response. "Boy have we been looking for you, alright."

It took a moment for the night to properly reveal their uniformed bodies, but when it did, Paige submitted with a sick ease to the helplessness rooted in the pit of her stomach. She completely forgot that she still had a knife on her and a sniper resting at her knees.

Safety and comfort no longer existed.

"Aw...I think we've shocked her," Lewis mocked, observing her seated form. "Know any way to get her moving?"

The other private grinned at the joke, mouth twisting in a gruesome grin.

"I know a few ways."

* * *

**Unexpected story line suddenly slamming you in the face? You're welcome. Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


	6. Mine

**What a fast update. Why? Because this was a tense scene to write and this is for everyone who left a review last chapter. Thank you, as always. Things kind of spiral in a direction I don't think anyone will expect, and I do hope you enjoy the ride this chapter. Always keep in mind: the characters have a reason for doing what they do. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Mine**

Paige worked on her breathing as the men approached. As long as she could get her breathing back to normal, the rest of her brain would hopefully follow suit.

"This time, I don't think I'm going to be polite," Adley promised, scanning Paige up and down.

"I know you haven't had the chance to try her," Lawrence mentioned back. "But once she stops screaming, you'd be amazed at how good it feels."

Her breath hitched once more from the words, but Paige maintained reason and a tense tranquility. She didn't know in what form. Right now, her heart threatened to give out on her and the ability to speak seemed to be trapped beneath the burdensome weight of her tongue.

_I am not defenseless. I am NOT defenseless. I have a gun and I have a knife and this time around, they are down two men. Think about this, and nothing else._

This confidence ascended from her fight or flight instinct, and eventually, her breathing returned to what could be considered relative normality.

"Where's Jason?" she suddenly asked, head flinging up to the two men.

Speaking the name alone made fear and fury tumble around in a passionate war within her tummy, but Paige only focused on breathing.

"Course you'd ask that, you little bitch," Lawrence spat, one hand reaching to his pocket and pulling out his hunting knife.

His anger was her answer.

"He died after you stabbed him," Adley confirmed, channeling how utterly -headed he could be despite the actions he was capable of. "Not a nice present considering zombies love the smell of fresh carcass. But it's only fair, isn't it? You took one of our men without proper cause, and now you'll face the consequences of your action."

"I took Matthews as well," came her soft reply.

Lawrence stepped forward, detecting the hints of triumph in her statement.

"Fuck you. Matthews is still back at camp."

Paige gave him a long stare, picking out the lie easily.

"No, he's actually sprawled out on the ground three miles east of here, enjoying the undead life of having my fucking bullet in his eye. You're welcome, by the way."

Adley had to grab on to one of Lawrence's shoulders so he could keep the man back.

"You little cunt," he growled instead. "He took you in. He offered you shelter when your body wouldn't have lasted another day without it. When I'm finally fucking you, I'm gonna make sure my knife is all the way in your socket."

Struggling not to scream at the words, Paige forced her body up, needing to stand so she could feel properly equal to them.

"Had I known what he would be leading me to, what he'd led countless of others to, I'd have _never_ followed him," she insisted vehemently, eyes narrowed and filled with fire. "The tragedy is that you think what you did made you saviors, even though it was only-."

"Adley!" Lawrence interrupted, whipping his head to the man. "I'm not waiting another minute to shut her up. We've followed her for over a month. I want to do this now."

Paige watched the exchange, anxious of the response.

_Stop staring at them! Remember, you have still got weapons on you. Not only that, but they only have their knives on them. That means once the shelter got overrun, they had to leave behind their guns. If I can get to Winston in time and-._

"It doesn't have to be so difficult," Adley offered, ignoring Lawrence's pleading look. "If you just come with us, we'll talk it out."

Startled at the proclamation, Paige shook her head mutinously.

"If you believed your own words, you would have never followed me this far," she pointed out. "I'm not sorry about killing Jason. He deserved everything that came to him. And I know saying this about your brother, may only heighten the chances of my death. I'm fine with that. But I do regret the path he chose to take. Because if there's anything I've learned in the months I've spent looking in on other groups, it's that there is always another way. Our first instinct as soon as the world goes to hell, does not need to be barbarism and insanity. Believe it or not, there are people out there who still retain goodness in them. And even if you preyed off it like you did with mine, they'd still be the survivors that they are."

She only received a blank stare from Adley and a fuming one from Lawrence.

Breathing, she continued, "Tonight, either I'm not leaving here alive, or you two aren't. I'd like to think I've picked up enough skills to where killing you both would be possible, but you're military trained. Whatever the outcome, I will die before I ever have to experience what pieces of shit like you want to put me through simply because you're too lazy to be a stronger man."

Lawrence lunged forward, but Adley kept his grip firm.

"You make a sound argument," the calm man admitted. "Especially since I thought Lawrence personally traumatized you-."

She knew he was referring to the near catatonic state she'd been in after he'd left. It remained one of the reasons why the others waited a while before trying what Lawrence did. They didn't know what was happening to her mentally.

Ultimately, this distance worked in her favor.

The next time someone came down, she managed to stab them into unconsciousness with a led pipe she'd bloodied her fingers up after pulling from the furnace area.

"-but if it's possible, I'd like to avoid the bloodshed tonight."

"Christ, fuck you both," Lawrence argued. "We tracked her so we could fuck and kill her. For God's sake, she stabbed your own brother to death and put a bullet in Matthews. I'm not keeping my knife out of this encounter."

Adley thought over this for a moment, hand releasing the fabric of Lawrence's uniform.

"Perhaps you are right," he shrugged, retracting his own knife from his pants. "Maybe I'm just trying to channel some of that goodness Paige is speaking so fondly of."

They shared a laugh at this, but Paige ignored it, eyes finding Winston in the grass. If she could muster up the energy she thought herself to be capable of, at least one of the men could be severely injured.

The other one she'd have to fight off, and in that, she knew her death might result.

Adley would take his time, trying not to kill her. He had this terrible ability to be vicious and calculating at the same time.

Lawrence...well, he'd probably prefer stabbing her repeatedly. They both knew that she'd never make it as easy for him as it had been the last time.

The prospect of killing either of these men, no longer bothered her.

For a long while after she'd escaped from the basement, Paige grew terrified at the thought of having to kill them. She knew they'd be hot on her tail, and she knew eventually, even though she'd convinced herself otherwise, that a confrontation would occur.

Back then, she retained guilt over what happened and fear at the thought of having to kill living people just to survive. It was inhumane.

But if stabbing Jason had taught her anything, it was that no matter how peaceful by nature she'd been originally, in the end, either she survived, or she didn't.

Right now, she was choosing a life of no captivity or constant fear and pain. It might end up killing her, but she was willing to die for that life because the one the men had in mind for her...well, that was worse than death itself.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Daryl watched the entire exchange from the safety of a wide oak, eyes glued to the Grass Fox's figure.

_Guess she goes by Paige._

But he had no time to think over her name. Right now, the situation was goin' to get bad. And from what he could make out, the woman wouldn't be goin' down without a fight.

Which was somethin' he felt a bit of pride in. It meant the woman didn't just say tough shit to make herself appear better. She'd go to her grave, kickin' and fightin'.

From his angle, he couldn't get a good shot of either man with his crossbow. Tryin' could lead to a mess or to the woman's death, even if she could get to her sniper in time.

For one of the first time's in his life, Daryl had to lower his weapon and actually think out a plan that didn't involve killin' someone. Goin' in with his crossbow, tryin' to shoot at them, left open a whole lotta bad outcomes in his head.

But stayin' in the dark, watchin' the situation escalate, was not a solution either.

He fought back the urge to be sympathetic while listenin' in. From what he'd observed, the men were the ones she'd probably been warnin' his group about. And he knew now, even though not all the details were clear, that she hadn't watched them do anythin' to someone else.

She'd been the recipient of their actions.

An indescribable anger bubbled in him at what these actions could be, and Daryl raised his crossbow once more, wantin' to put an arrow through both of the cadets' heads.

At the last second, he dropped his hands, jaw clenched.

_Don't be thinkin' 'bout what happened to her now. C'mon, need a plan. Somethin' t'a let 'em know she ain't as defenseless as she seems. Somethin' that would immediately get them away from her, let 'em see she was protected._

The exact second one of the cadets moved to walk forward, inspiration hit.

It wasn't the best idea he'd ever had. Certainly would require some participation from the Grass Fox's part (again, nickname just stuck).

But at this moment, the pros of the plan far outweighed the consequences of keepin' himself hidden.

And so with a final run through of the idea, Daryl stepped out from behind the tree trunk, eyes set on the group.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

"You really think you can take both of us on, don't you?" Lawrence laughed, shaking his knife back and forth. "You've got nothing to save you this time."

"Considering I've killed two of your men, I should think you'd be a little less cocky," came Paige's defiant retort, eyes flying to the weapons on the ground.

"Matthews doesn't count. Bastard never shuts up. His fault entirely he didn't see the zombie until it was too late."

"What happened to the others?"

This time, Adley stepped forward, a scowl marring his features.

"Quit stalling. I wasn't lying when I said this didn't have to be difficult. We can still talk it out."

Lawrence snorted and Paige almost rolled her eyes.

"For once, I'll actually agree with the cunt on this one," Lawrence remarked. "Let's get this started."

Just as Paige readied herself to bend over and reach for Winston, a branch snapped. Loudly. And if she didn't know any better, purposefully.

Both men immediately threw their gazes behind her.

Paige wearily turned as well, watching the figure throw off the darkness around them.

When she saw Daryl standing there, crossbow angled down, she nearly fainted on the spot.

_Sweet. Baby. Jesus._

She watched him with an open mouth, hoping to warn him with her eyes of the danger he just stepped into.

But Daryl wasn't watching her. Instead, he met the gazes of each man above her.

"Who the fuck are you?" Lawrence cried.

Daryl calmly walked forward, finally making eye contact with Paige. Then, the corner of one lip turned up and in that action, she straightened up, turning to the men as well.

Whatever was about to transpire, even if she wished differently, Daryl would have her back.

"Paige," the hunter gruffly spoke, stopping directly beside her, "where you been? Thought you'd have y'er stuff packed up an' ready to move by now."

It didn't take much for her to produce embarrassment.

"Sorry, Daryl. I was packing up when these two men stopped me," she explained gingerly.

"We were just passing by," Adley informed. "Thought this young lady might need some help."

Paige physically restrained the urge to grind her teeth together, instead, keeping part of her gaze on Daryl. Right now, he was radiating courage like no other. She could practically see it glowing around him.

"Well...," Daryl elongated, draping an arm over Paige's shoulder and unexpectedly pulling her to him, "she don't."

The heat from his body tamed the fear in hers.

Lawrence's features had been getting progressively angrier, and rather than follow Adley's retreat, the cadet took a march forward.

"How the hell do we know you two are together?" he voiced, unconvinced. "Far as I'm concerned, a man wouldn't just leave a girl by herself to get all her supplies and then expect her to find him in the dark"

"I told him I could handle myself," she defended, wrapping her right arm around Daryl's back.

Adley watched the exchange and Paige could detect his disbelief rising as well the longer Lawrence picked at the situation.

"I don't see your name on her," Lawrence continued to argue, throwing Daryl a dirty stare. "What's to stop me from coming on over there and saying she's with us?"

For a moment, all the oxygen seemed to have been sucked out of the air. No one breathed. Wind made no sound. Not even any animals in the near area, dared make themselves known.

Cautiously, she spun her head to her right, watching Daryl's facial expressions bounce around.

Eventually, he turned to her, eyes finding her own.

This time, she had no idea what sort of plan existed in his head. Lawrence was being frighteningly persistent, and she was sure this threw a wrench in whatever plans he'd made.

However, she severely underestimated the hunter's ability to think quick.

One minute, Paige was curiously observing the indigo pulsing around Daryl's irises, and the next, their mouths were crushed together, one of Daryl's hands having snarled itself into the strawberry blonde of her hair, making sure she couldn't move back even if she tried.

Her naked surprise caused her mouth to drop open, and with this, Daryl invaded the space, tasting everything from teeth to tongue, leaving nothing unmarked.

Half of Paige understood he was acting, which allowed her to lean forward and meet his insistent kissing with open mouthed ones of her own, but the other part, a part she didn't even think she had in her, wrapped her own hands around the man's shoulders, fingers tugging playfully at the hair, nearly forgetting the cadets were there altogether.

The kiss began blind, but ever so leisurely, it transformed into an animated passion, his lips becoming rougher and more intimate the more she reacted. A woodsy, fire pit scent, one she'd noted but never really inhaled while sleeping in his blankets, suddenly overwhelmed her senses, forcing her closer until she could practically taste the fire on his tongue. She didn't know who's heart beat slammed back and forth erratically, but this rhythm dominated her very being, offering peace and contentment.

A hunger stirred inside Paige like a beast does from a cage, and the hotter the friction from their bodies grew, the closer to a strangled moan she got.

The scariest aspect of this embrace existed in the fact that Paige could have happily kissed the man for the rest of her life, the fluency of his tongue and heat of his mouth, spreading sensations from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes.

And considering she'd suffered through a point in her life where she didn't think she'd ever want a man's touch on her ever again, this was pretty impressive.

But it scared her just as much. The desire this man suddenly pulled out from her. She hadn't even known him a full week, but his lips managed to reorganize every single emotion and instinct inside her.

This fear rose so quickly that both of her hands dropped from Daryl's body and instead, worked to push at his shoulders, needing oxygen just as much as time to collect herself.

Getting the hint, Daryl tugged back his lips, and just in the hooded stare he shot her, she knew his reluctance matched hers.

_So I'm not the only one affected by it. Well that's just fantastic._

Narrowing his eyes, Daryl quietly turned to Lawrence and Adley, lips set in a tight scowl as a few quick intakes of breath flew from his nostrils.

"Tha girl's _mine_," he roughly indicated, arm once more tightly wound around her. "So back off 'fore I send an arrow through each of y'er asses."

Adley stepped back at the proclamation, finally convinced, but Lawrence's anger could not be held back this time.

With a grunt, he stomped forward, knife extended.

Ever so fluently, Daryl's right hand swiped the crossbow from his side, aiming it at the cadet with a clear threat.

"You aren't going to do shit," Lawrence taunted, leer spreading back over his face.

A second later and Lawrence let out an animalistic howl of pain as his hands worked at digging out the arrow stuck in his thigh, tip of the metal having nearly protruded through the back end of his thigh.

"Holy shit, you crazy, redneck mother fucker! Fuck!" he screamed, hands working at containing the blood ready to gush out.

Adley moved to help, but Lawrence swore at him, instead, stumbling backwards.

Paige only watched the scene in a stunned amusement, involuntarily leaning into the hunter.

"Get the hell out of here or next one'll be through the skull," Daryl promised, aiming the threat at Adley.

The cadet nodded firmly, following Lawrence's hobbles as he stormed angrily back into the woods.

Minutes ticked by, and when Paige could no longer hear either of the cadets' yells, she detangled herself from Daryl's side and moved down to pick up her sniper.

_That's it. From now on, I'm sleeping with you. And going to the bathroom with you. In fact, the only time you'll ever be parted from my hands is if someone's trying to take you from me._

Of course Winston said nothing, but this internal promise calmed Paige down a bit. Never again, she promised, would she be that defenseless. Especially when she needed help the most.

Once the knife was successfully swept up and maneuvered into her front pocket, Paige stood.

"I don't know why this world is so insistent on making me grateful to you. Whatever the reason, thank you, again," Paige smiled tiredly, catching Daryl's blue gaze. "I've been so convinced that I could handle myself just because...I've already gone through the worst pain in my life. I guess this was a bit of a wake up call."

She then blinked, staring down at Winston.

"Thank you," she repeated, swallowing past the burning tingle so often responsible for tears.

_I cannot afford to break down right now. Not here, and not with him watching me._

Strapping the sniper over her shoulder, Paige moved to her book bag, working on stuffing the rest of her sleeping bag back inside.

Once she stood, Daryl spoke.

"You knew them."

"I don't really want to talk about it," she insisted quietly.

"Hate to say this, but we're gonna have t'a. Rick's gonna wanna know everythin'."

At her confused look, Daryl nearly snorted.

"You really think I'm gonna let ya go off on y'er own tonight?"

His humor at the situation made her frown.

"And you really think I'm going to let myself be responsible for whatever harm befalls your camp because of Lawrence and Adley? No fucking way. The stupidest thing I could do right now is to stay in your presence. Because I know this - they will come back for me. If I lead them to you and someone gets hurt-."

"We out number 'em easily," Daryl pointed out, sobering up.

"They are smarter and stronger than you think."

"One of 'em's gonna have a limp for th'a rest o' his life. Think the odds are in our favor."

"You think I didn't have your mindset when I first met them? I had both my sniper and my knife on me. Even when I found out what they planned on doing, I still thought I had a chance," she sputtered, a hardness seeping into her voice. "They aren't just cadets in the military. If this apocalypse had been pushed back another week, Jason and Lawrence would have become first class privates, Matthews would have been a specialist, and Adley was well on his way to being a corporal. They may act dumb, but they are a lot cleverer then you've given them credit for."

Daryl waited a few seconds before responding.

"You said the same thin' 'bout walkers and we're still alive."

"This is different," she defended, less assured. "I don't understand why you're being so stubborn about this. This is my problem. Walk away and let me handle this."

"So you can keep on runnin', settle down, then encounter them again?" he argued, moving toward her. "You gotta a chance to finally throw 'em off. To get 'em to leave you alone forever."

"I am not going to place that guilt of killing a living being on you or anyone else in your camp. Considering they left your brother to die, I'd have thought you'd understand where I'm coming from."

This silenced the hunter for a few good seconds, and without meaning to, Paige's eyes traveled to his lips.

_Stop it, damn you!_

Inhaling slowly, Paige closed her eyes. But the kiss existed just as vividly in her head.

"Okay, I'm going to talk about this without being so hostile. Daryl," she expressed levelly, opening her eyes, "I understand you want to help me so I don't have to worry about them anymore. But, they are my problem. And if I stay at your camp, I will be putting everyone there at risk. That is not something I am prepared to have on my conscience. I am grateful, very, very grateful for you intervening when you did. However, this is my business, not yours. Let me take care of it."

Daryl listened, his lips still set in a thin line.

"Why do you want to help me?" she questioned. "You've long ago repaid your debt."

The man didn't answer, but he did throw out a request.

"Tell me 'bout what happened."

"Will you leave me alone if I do?"

Again, he didn't say anything.

"Truth's too humiliating any way," she replied, readying herself to step around him.

Daryl blocked her path with an extended arm, releasing a disgruntled exhale.

"Part o' me still feels like I owe ya. And considerin' y'er ease at gettin' into bad situations, I feel...responsible for y'er safety."

She could tell the words were difficult for Daryl to release, and that even he didn't quite understand the full meaning of them.

"The last time someone promised me safety, I was-."

Pausing, Paige shook away the poisonous thoughts.

"I need to do this alone."

"Used to think the same thin'," he agreed. "Hunted alone. Ate alone. Talked to no one."

She studied him inquiringly. "What changed?"

"You puttin' a bullet into the walker that woulda killed me," Daryl answered sharply. "Once in a while, it ain't bad to accept someone's help."

Paige allowed herself to wonder for just the briefest of moments, what kind of life she'd have if she did follow Daryl.

But she had to stop or else the idea would actually become a consideration.

"I'm quite sure Lori would kill me first," she noted with a half-hearted chuckle.

"Lori don't know shit," he bit back, causing her to jump. "Rick was gonna come with me t'a find you, but as always, she can't stand the thought of not havin' both Shane and Rick's attention on her. But Rick made me promise him I'd find ya and brin' you back if you were in trouble. He's not the only one concerned for ya."

"Then I guess you're going to have to break that promise," Paige sighed, forcing back the tiredness wanting to settle inside.

Ever so slowly, Daryl nodded, eyes falling to his feet.

"'Least let me see y'er bag," he declared. "I can cut a space for you t'a slip y'er sniper in so you can have easier access gettin' it out."

Shrugging, Paige slipped the bag off her shoulder, extending her arm.

She didn't expect Daryl to suddenly crouch down, grab her around the midsection, lift her up in the air, and throw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. All in one swift movement that he had to have planned out in his head before attempting.

"You son of a bitch!" she squeaked, attempting to claw her way down his back.

Daryl only shifted his weight, successfully trapping her legs beneath his arm. Her book bag hung in a strange angle, half off her shoulder while Daryl held on to Winston in his right hand.

"Calm down," he scolded, beginning a walk.

"Calm down?" she growled. "Like hell, you stubborn asshole."

She tried to twist and turn from her position, ground steadily moving by below her, but Daryl held her pinned well enough to where she broke more of a sweat than he did.

"You had better be on the other side of these woods when you finally let me down," she threatened, continuing her disruptive movements. "Or at least not leave your arrows by me. Because I can guarantee one of them will be going straight up your ass."

"Considerin' I have a stubborn asshole, I don't think it'd fit."

Paige would have laughed if she wasn't so vexed.

But that didn't keep her from more threats.

"Will you hush up, woman?" Daryl demanded, kneeling down to get through a thick tangle of bent branches. "You're gonna attract every walker in the area."

"Walkers are going to be the least of your problems by the end of the night."

This comment, however, lacked her fury.

"Daryl...you've got to understand what you're doing by bringing me to your camp."

"'Course I understand," came the gruff assurance.

"Then why-."

"Hush."

Paige just barely restrained the urge to elbow him in the back of the head.

Barely.

* * *

**Yeah, so this swung into an unexpected direction. But what can I say...Daryl's feeling like his debt isn't repaid yet. That and he recognizes that if Paige remains alone and constantly distances herself from help, she will eventually die, just like he nearly did. Plus, there's a whole lot of conflicting feelings inside both of our characters that are just so much fun! Anyway, hope you enjoyed that. Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


	7. Dead Faces

**I apologize for how long it's been since I've uploaded a chapter. A different fandom completely blindsided me, so I spewed out four stories before finally returning to this baby. Hope you are all still with me since this is my longest chapter. Also, a reviewer was deeply offended by Paige's remarks in regards to Bush and Republicans in chapter 4, accusing me of pushing my beliefs onto people. Firstly, I want to remind you that this is a story of a jaded girl who has her views for a reason. Secondly, if you don't like them, I'm sorry, but characters are entitled to their opinions and I'm entitled to creating my character however I want. Lastly, I am indeed a different person from Paige, in case you forgot. Which means I do have different views than her. It's called fiction. Honestly, the review didn't bother me. I was more disappointed by the thought that I'm trying to brainwash my readers into what I want. My audience does indeed have their own beliefs as well and I respect them for it. It's a story. Any issues you have, deal with them in your own time. And to everyone else, thank you for the reviews. I hope you enjoy! **

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Dead Faces**

The closer Daryl approached the camp ground, the more insistently Paige struggled, renewing her efforts with a violent desperation. She could only imagine what she looked like right now, slung over his shoulder. Like she was a wayward child needing to be set straight.

Humiliation caused her cheeks to redden and with another strangled gargle, Paige began beating at Daryl's back with her knuckles, squeaks and yelps making their way out from between her twisted lips.

Daryl only grunted a few times, but other than that, did nothing to fight her off.

Sooner than she liked, the trees began thinning. As a result, Daryl's steps weren't being taken over branches anymore. Instead, they followed an easy march forward, shoes kicking away the stray twig or so.

"I'm giving you a final chance, Daryl. Let me go," Paige warned, tugging desperately at his shirt.

"Ain't happening tonight," he promised.

The complete alphaness of the statement ultimately made her see a blasphemous hue of red.

Gritting her teeth, Paige sent a particularly painful punch into his spine, a triumphant smile flying up as he jerked forward at the action.

"Jesus, woman! Did ya get raised by a bunch of apes?" he scowled, pulling her legs down a bit so she wouldn't have such open access to his back.

"LET ME GO!" she screamed, her lungs burning as he continued forward.

Seconds later and Daryl finally flung her off his shoulder, disposing her unceremoniously on the grass before him. She didn't even have to glance behind to see the other members of his camp approaching her, most likely having heard the yells already.

"Are you guys tryin' to attract the walkers?" Shane demanded angrily.

Rick stalked up beside him, watching the exchange silently rather than voicing an opinion.

"Blame the stubborn bastard who refuses leave me alone," Paige hissed, stumbling up as dead leaves scattered to the ground.

"I saved y'er ass," he argued, unafraid to stomp toward her.

"I never asked you to!" she exclaimed, throwing a wild hand in the air. "I could have handled myself."

"Keep sayin' that, but I ain't seein' it happen," he growled back, a fire re-entering his eyes. "You're stayin' here for th'a night and tellin' Rick everythin' you know 'bout the cadets. No discussin' that."

"If you don't stop ordering me around, I will dismember, piece by piece, your tiny scrotum," Paige threatened darkly, ignoring the unnaturally close proximity they'd reached with only an inch separating their fuming bodies.

"Shit just got real," T-Dog whistled from the gathered crowd.

"Ditto," Glenn agreed, hand subconsciously descending from his abdomen.

"Mom," Carl murmured, a puzzled look crossing his face, "by scrotum, does she mean-?"

"We'll talk about it alter," Rick interrupted, anxiously watching the duel before him.

"If I hadn't been there, they woulda raped and killed ya. We both know that. What're you so pissed 'bout?" Daryl retorted.

"I'm pissed about you thinking that you can throw me over your shoulder like a caveman and rescue me all the time. That's not the way life works, and I certainly am not expecting that of you. I'm thankful you helped out, yes. But now, you have got to let me be."

"Whenever I let ya be, you're ready to drop dead. Think it's time you start pushin' away pride and channelin' the need t'a survive, since you don't like bein' told what to do."

"I think you hate being refused," she goaded back, suddenly pushing him against his chest. "Or you don't value a woman's opinion. Each time I've made a decision, you've gone behind my back and done the exact opposite."

The push hardly fazed Daryl who stormed back to where he'd been, his quarrelsome aura compressed around them both, making it impossible to see reason. With narrowed eyes and the dominant stance he sprouted of being at least a head taller than her, Paige faintly felt the need to retreat.

But, she fought back against this with a malignant force.

"I'd do it again if it means knowin' y'er safe."

Appropriately enough, the words managed to freeze all of the flames rippling through her veins in one single second.

Cautiously, Paige backed a step away, unaccustomed to the brief concern flickering in Daryl's dark blue eyes. Not once had she ever been the recipient of such a stare, unless it'd been her own family.

"Why?"

As soon as she asked, she knew she wasn't going to get a proper answer. In fact, she guessed Daryl didn't have an idea as to why he said it. It spilled out in the heat of the moment.

But to her surprise, he did respond.

"It's an apocalypse," he mentioned with a careless shrug, recalling her initial words to him. "Got to have someone watchin' y'er back, whether you want it or not."

The confusion was sprawled across her face like a mural over a brick wall.

Luckily for them both, however, their audience decided to break the tension.

"Nice to see you again, Paige."

Huffing out a breath, Paige wearily turned to Rick, not as bothered as she should have been to see a tiny smile playing his lips.

"You as well. Though, understand I didn't come back here willingly. And Daryl is under the impression that he can make my decisions for me."

Daryl stayed silent through this accusation, seemingly having receded into a transparent state after his declaration.

"I'm sure Daryl had a good reason for bringing you back here so urgently," Rick reasoned.

In an instance, Adley and Lawrence's leers materialized back into her mind. And what almost happened had Daryl not been there.

"He did save my life, yes. But there really was no need for dragging me back here."

"You ain't leavin' 'til you talk 'bout the cadets," Daryl pointedly noted, eyes focused intensely on her.

"How's that your business?" she glowered.

"You made it my business by acceptin' my help back there," he snapped back. "You wanna keep survivin' the way ya do, then spill out what happened."

"It's not a story I go around telling people out of pity."

"Never said it was."

"Well you're certainly making it seem like it is."

"I don't even know what happened between ya three. I can guess though. And if that's the truth, then you know y'er not safe out there."

Again, there was that ever brief concern resting in his eyes, aimed solely at her and detectable only to her alone. And underneath it, Paige truly wanted to find shelter. To believe in what it broadcasted.

"The warning you gave us earlier," Rick specified, glancing between the two. "I'm to guess they found you."

Paige looked down at her shoes in guilt, suddenly not feeling so boundless.

"If you want to hear it, then you're going to have to prepared for it. When I tell this thing, I'm not editing anything out. You need to know how strong and clever these guys are," she finally breathed out, risking a glance at Rick.

"There are people after you?" Shane clarified, eyes momentarily falling to the woods.

"They've been after me for awhile now. And the last thing I expect is help, though Daryl is adamant in thinking I will get it here. Understand this. I do not under any circumstances want to put your group into danger. Because by promising to keep me safe, if you find yourselves insane enough to do this, you are also risking your own lives. This needs to be clear above all else."

Lori gave Paige a disapproving look, but kept her lips tight as the group stirred.

"How many people are after you?" Shane asked.

"Two."

"What's their weapon count?" Andrea wondered.

"Far as I know, they each have a knife. But I don't know where they're camped so I can't be sure that's all they have on them."

"How come they're after you?"

Glenn worded this question, but Paige didn't answer, eyes glued on Rick.

"Discuss what I said among your group, Rick. Because if you hear this story, you will be less inclined to let me leave. I don't mean to sound imposing when I say this. And as I've mentioned, I am capable of caring for myself. But I am saying that this outbreak affected some of us in...not so good ways. And if I was to hear my own story from someone else's lips, I'd feel enough compassion no matter how lonely I chose to be, to help them out in whatever way I could."

Rick nodded firmly, though Paige got the distinct (and hopeful) feeling that his answer had already been made up.

But if Rick did decide on helping her, she knew a brand new guilt would open up regarding the lives of every person in the camp. If one of them was hurt trying to protect her, she would never live that pain down.

"I'll be by the fire," she informed, making her way toward the heat as voices began forming an opinion.

To be honest, she didn't know what she wanted anymore.

At first, it was to be alone. Far, far away from the depravity of humanity and the sickness of the walkers. Being on her own had restructured her. Had given her a new sense of hope to live only for herself. It discontinued the ever present guilt she felt at allowing others to help her.

But ever since...Daryl entered her life, her priorities were a mess.

She wanted so easily to say the man didn't give a shit about her. It was a familiar guilt he himself felt at not being able to defend himself and this alone was responsible for him helping her out after she'd nearly starved to death.

From then on, however, his actions made little sense.

He offered his tent to stay in. He indulged her in talk. He gave her ammo for her gun. He saved her ass in front of Adley and Lawrence when he could have just let her be.

And now, he dragged her back to a haven he assured would protect her, though she knew that haven carried people who were more concerned about their own safety. Which she couldn't blame them for. With death around every corner, it was hell to worry about others as well as yourself.

Then, that kiss.

She struggled to decipher where exactly that extra passion had erupted itself from. As far as she could tell, he wasn't involved with any of the women at camp. Nor did he appear to be the affectionate type.

So, while the kiss had been an act, it still left her unbearably confused as to why it made her feel like there was something more behind it. Something Daryl poured through, unintentionally, that made her swoon. And why her own limbs lit up in such intense arousal just by a simple kiss.

_Maybe I'm horny. And I wanted it to mean something more than it did. _

The thought made her smile, though a grim one considering her preference of being physical touched after the outbreak. After having been holed up in the cadet's station where-.

"Hey."

She visibly jumped from her spot, heart beat slowing as Glenn made his way into focal range.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he promised, holding up a cautious hand.

"You're fine. My thoughts are the problem, not you," she explained, feeling eased by his presence. "How come you're not with the others?"

Glenn risked a glance behind him, both hands stuffed into his pockets.

"I already made my decision. But Lori and some of the others are kind of...nervous about helping you out."

"Understandable," Paige nodded, eyes transfixed by the flickering of the flames. "Helping out someone you don't know is risky. There are unseen consequences sometimes. I'm glad they're discussing it."

"You saved Daryl's life without knowing who he was."

Raising both eyebrows, Paige turned to the man.

"He told you?"

Glenn slowly smiled back, a satisfied look entering his eye.

"No, but you just did."

Helpless to fight her own smile, Paige tilted her head.

"What alerted you?"

"Besides the fact that Daryl is actually giving a shit about someone else rather than himself?"

"You make it sound so poetic," she noted dryly.

"If you knew him the months we have, you'd be just as shocked by his behavior. In his own way, he's probably the most concerned out of all of us for you. Eventually, I just kind of put it together after Daryl invited you to stay in his tent."

"If you think you have things figured out, then please tell me why he's continuing to harass me."

She wanted it to sound carefree, even humorous, but it came out sounding rough and weary.

"I'd think that's obvious," Glenn answered easily, balancing that same smile. "He likes you."

Paige didn't react to the statement, eyes falling back to the flames.

"You don't believe me," he observed after a moment of muted silence, sounding disappointed.

"No, I guess I don't," she responded quietly. "Even before the apocalypse, people didn't generally like me. Plus, I'm convinced Daryl still feels like he owes me."

"He was done owing you the moment he carried you back into camp, half starved and nearly dehydrated. Everything he's done for you after that, has been because he wanted to, not because he feels he owes that. And whether he wants to face it or not, though my money is that he doesn't, he's developed some sort of bond to you. One you really shouldn't take for granted because I've got the feeling he doesn't form them very often with people."

Again, Paige stayed quiet, though Glenn's explanation surprised her plenty. Was it possible for him to care about her safety outside feeling like he owed her his life? Or was that more wishful thinking?

Wanting to change the subject, Paige relaxed her shoulders, a familiar heaviness behind her eyes setting in.

"So, you've said you made your decision already. How come you're so trusting of me?"

Glenn shrugged.

"You remind me of someone I once knew. She was kind of stubborn, like you, and a badass. She never let her pain show, and I always thought that was so frustrating. Everyone knows you can't remain strong forever. Seeing you in pain, running from whoever it is you're running from, fighting for your life...what can I say? I feel obliged to help."

He voiced this lightly, but Paige knew whoever she reminded him of, meant a great deal to Glenn. Enough to where he now mirrored her pensive features, smile gone completely.

"Well...thank you, Glenn. I appreciate your compassion."

"You're welcome."

They stayed side by side, transfixed by the cackling flames for a solid ten minutes, minds thousands of miles away. Paige considered saying something, but she understood the moment had to remain unbroken. Nostalgia was thick in the air and needed to spread its way through appropriately.

So, Paige's thoughts turned to her brother and involuntarily, she felt a deep stab in her chest.

She wished more than anything that he was still alive to be there with her. To be her anchor, her support like he always knew how to be. To help her figure this world out. To help her live in it without going crazy. To have a reason to live. To let her know there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

Because Paige could admit it openly to herself. If she kept going at the rate she was now, she didn't envision herself still alive in a month. The starvation and loneliness was eating greedily at her body. Her face reflected years of turmoil, speeding up the aging process in her eyes. While optimism wasn't exactly her forte, even the good thoughts tended to become tainted in one way or another. Everything felt so unbearably challenging. So fruitless in the end. To survive one tragedy, then be drowned by another.

What was the point?

"Paige?"

Pushing away all troublesome thoughts, Paige turned around.

"Rick," she acknowledged, exhaling all anxiety bubbled up in her chest.

The sheriff stood confidently before herself and Glenn, a clear decision in his eyes.

"First, I want to apologize for Daryl's behavior. You're right. He didn't have the right to drag you back here."

She nodded at the statement, relieved for the support.

"But I know why he did it. And I hope you don't hold it against him. It's not often he shows an outward compassion for other people. Obviously, you're different and I don't think he knows how else to get through to you."

"I can be stubborn," Paige agreed, fighting down a grin. "Actually, Daryl and I are a bit like a chemical reaction. Add a bit of opposing view points and watch the violent explosion."

"Oh, we are," Glenn assured.

Rick masked his mirth at the comment, instead, taking on a composed stance. And very briefly, Paige had to admire the man. Just in the way he stood, one could point out him to be the leader of the group. There was a calming presence in the atmosphere around him. A demand in the air that forced all eyes to him.

Really, it was quite impressive.

"If you will accept our help, we're more than willing to offer it. For however long you need, we can offer you a place among our group to sleep, eat, and get in better condition. If these cadets Daryl told us about, try sniffing around here for you, you have my promise that you'll be protected."

"But-."

"It's just not you in danger," Rick pointed out. "If any of us were to venture out by ourselves and encounter them, that puts us at risk. And I don't want you to think you brought this upon us. Because they would have caused trouble whoever it is they stumbled into. This time, they're outnumbered and you don't have to fear for your life anymore than you have to."

She wrestled down her relief and settled for a thankful smile while Glenn ejected a mini fist pump. And yet, the indecision still rested inside.

"You're sure about this?"

"You didn't do anything to warrant them hunting you like a pack of dogs. Watching you get taken down without intervening is the sort of inhumanity I refuse to succumb to. And while some of us may not voice it, they would agree with me."

"Are you still up to hearing my connection to them?"

"Only if you're willing to tell it," Rick responded.

"I am. Are Carl and Sophia going to be present?"

"Carol's offered to hold on to them for the moment at her tent. After you tell us your story, I'll tell Carol and we'll both find an easier way to explain it to them."

Releasing a shaky breath, Paige nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, Rick."

"No need," he assured, voice softening. "I have a feeling you need to get this out more than you know."

She wanted to agree, but it suddenly hit her that what had happened at the place would actually be translated into words.

There was no doubt she feared retelling the shaky events. It sounded better in her head, locked away far from her sanity.

But Rick was a sheriff. She reasoned he'd heard stories similar to her own before. After all, it wasn't the walkers that forced the cadets' actions. It was humanity at its weakest.

She didn't acknowledge when the rest of the group merged their way over to the fire, nor the looks she received, some sympathetic, some still mistrusting.

However, not a single one appeared accusing or malignant. She was a mystery to them. And now, she was about to be revealed.

"Whenever you're ready," Rick announced after a few minutes, making his way to her right.

Glenn stood to her left, but he side stepped out of the way when Daryl managed to squeeze his way next to her.

Funnily enough, she didn't mind it, or perhaps didn't realize the gesture was meant to be his own sense of comforting her.

All she felt was a numbness wrapping itself around her heart, making it difficult to find a beginning.

_I've dealt with revealing tougher things in therapy. I can do this._

"I always knew the city wouldn't be safe for long," Paige began, eyes focused on the red embers. "So, after I lost contact with my friends from college and found my current sniper, I made my way out. For about three weeks or so, I meandered through suburbs until I gradually made it to where suburb met rural countryside. Along the way, I met a lot of survivors. Some of them were convinced the apocalypse was finally upon us, some were disillusioned with the state of the world. The latter were the ones I always felt bad for. Eventually, their situation would sink in. And when it did, it wouldn't be pretty."

She paused, relieved to have something to talk about before diving into the events at the place.

"I knew through it all, no matter how lonely I would get, that I needed to be on my own. Ultimately, it was safer and easier. I did travel with some people every now and again, but never for more than a day or two. A lot of them were city people who needed help trying to figure out what fruits and berries were edible this time of month. So, I helped them when I could, then moved on. A few times, there were those people who...tried to control others with fear. I ran across one group, thankfully from a far, who's leader forced the people to march directly ahead of him without weapons. Granted, there were only three of them, his family I take it, but his domination was evident because he yelled whenever his daughter stumbled over a rock, aiming his shotgun at her head. She was only eight."

Andrea shook her head while Lori's jaw tightened up.

"Did you try to help them?"

"I asked if they needed help finding food," Paige explained, ignoring Lori's stare. "The guy told me to fuck off or he'd put a bullet through my head. I knew just by looking at his wife and daughters, that if I attempted to help them, he would do exactly as he said. So, reluctantly, I walked away."

She didn't look up to see what the group's reaction was, but she knew they were hooked on her experiences. So different, she guessed, then from their own.

"After about a month, I was short on food. The thing about scavenging is we're not used to it. We never paid attention to the food in nature because we had an unlimited supply at our local grocery. But if we were to pay attention, we'd realize humans aren't the only ones competing for it. Animals are as well. When a full month passed since the outbreak, true exhaustion was starting to weigh in as food was getting more difficult to find. Compared to now, it's miniscule. But at the time, I felt drained constantly. And that was dangerous, especially with the amount of walkers I'd run into."

Again, she paused, knowing the core of the story was approaching.

"I came across Elijah after deciding to follow the road. I needed a better way of detecting trouble before it saw me. He was a cadet and offered me safety and comfort at a makeshift base a few miles up the road. I'm embarrassed to say that I didn't think much of it. My energy was waning drastically and he'd done an excellent job at lulling me into a sense of security. Which it was, at first. Where he'd led me to was like a small community of tents and houses, sheltered by trees. I found out that he maintained this haven with three other cadets. Adley, Adley's brother Jason, and Lawrence. Together, they had enough weapons and food to easily make it through a good three months."

"The haven wasn't all it cracked up to be," Dale guessed.

"Not at all," she agreed grimly. "The first week really wasn't bad. There were other survivors there, though I always thought it was odd how few there were. The tents and houses could easily hold up a hundred people. Why didn't they try to find more people? But I didn't second guess it. After walking for so long, seeing so much bloodshed and constantly wondering if today is the day you're going to die, I felt lethargic. I let my guard down because it felt good to not have to move around constantly. To abandon people because you had to. I relaxed and allowed myself to reboot."

"When did things change?" Rick questioned softly.

Sucking in a breath, Paige hardened her stare, immune to any warmth the fire was emitting.

"I stupidly told Elijah that I'd be heading out. After two weeks there, I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. The survivors...they just walked around with dead expressions on their faces. There was a sense of imbalance between the cadets and ourselves. It was obvious the longer I stayed there, how the men and women felt trapped rather than at ease about being there. I tried talking to some people about why the cadets' unnerved them, but they didn't say a word. Though, if I recall now, I did receive a hefty amount pitiful looks. On the night after I told Elijah I'd be leaving, he offered me a final toast in my honor inside one of the houses. Prior to then, I prefered sleeping in the tents. It let me hear trouble before it found me first."

The silence felt deadly now. As if a weight more malignant than ever, rested inside it.

"He drugged me and when I woke up again, I was in the basement. It's terribly funny how everything seemed to dawn on me as soon as I woke up. All the red lights I'd ignored just because I wanted so desperately to feel safe again. Then of course, Elijah came down stairs and informed me for himself."

Lowering her head to the ground, Paige bit into her lip, fingers curling into fists. She stayed in this tense position for a good minute, fighting off the onslaught of anger and shame so ready to ensnare her.

"I was to be their play thing. They hadn't had a woman for awhile and my duty was to personally satisfy every one of them. Once my task was complete, they'd let me above with the other survivors and I wouldn't be bothered again. I would have food and water once more and it'd be my decision to leave if I so wished, though I knew this was a bunch of bullshit. They killed whoever left. He didn't have to say it, but the intent was clear."

"I'm surprised the other men at the camp didn't say anything to you," Shane noted. "Were they sodomized as well?"

"No, but they were threatened to keep up their silence or they'd be shot. A few were, I learned. They couldn't take their daughters being forced into such a degrading servitude. Or their wives. And with each death, this served a reminder to the other men. If you shut up and do as you're told, you'll have protection, shelter, and constant access to food. For some, this survival outweighed their guilt and they remained silent whenever new women were welcomed into the base. The women who fulfilled the cadets' desires, also refused to say anything once they returned from the basements. But their silence was more scarring. More haunting. I don't think they could have said anything even if they tried."

"I'm sorry," Glenn blurted.

Paige shrugged, but his sympathy made the next words come out easier.

"The first cadet I was to...entertain was Lawrence. Out of all of them, he was probably the most violent. And the rule was that whenever a cadet got bored, they'd pass the woman on to the next one. Sometimes, they'd get bored after a day. Sometimes, after a week. The time period kind of merged together for me. But I think we were in each other's company for five days."

The pain on her lip got more intense, but Paige kept up her rough treatment, the anger steadily rocking her frame.

"He...uh...forced himself on me," she awkwardly revealed, shame causing the burning in her cheeks. "I can't remember how many times because I think I made myself suppress a lot of it. But enough to where I think he messed me up badly."

"Physically?" Rick asked.

"No...it was more psychological. Once he was finished with me, I wanted to die. Even in the toughest days of my life, I never looked to suicide as the answer. But he forced me to honestly consider it. After those days together, something inside me just snapped. Something that had kept me going through life despite its misfortunes."

No one said a word. The once deadly silence, now torn open, oozed out a toxic grief none of the group found themselves immune to.

"They gave me a week to myself before sending in the next cadet. Jason. By then, I was prepared for him. I'd tugged out a lead pipe from the furnace, something that had taken me two days to do, and when he came down stairs, I ambushed him before busting the back of his brain in. He was still alive so...I made sure I was the one who survived."

"What allowed you the strength to face him?" Andrea inquired, her gaze unwavering, if not a bit admiring. "It sounded like you were defeated after Lawrence attacked you."

"I didn't want to walk around like the women upstairs," Paige admitted with a surprising ease. "Their dead faces kept sliding into my head while I was down there. The complete eradication of hope. No purpose. As if their souls, their will to live, had been sucked out completely. I knew I couldn't let myself get that way. I think I turned a bit manic, the opposite of what they expected. I could tell by Jason's attitude when he came down stairs, that he expected me to be properly subdued and lacking all ability to fight back. Of course, I wasn't. And I did what I had to so they'd never touch me again."

"No one blames you for that," Rick immediately assured. "It's a miracle you survived with your sanity in tact, but even more of one that you managed to find the courage within yourself to escape. Understand that there is no blame you should take for the depravity of others."

"I know that now," she agreed. "But I didn't for the weeks after that. Walking hurt. Being alone hurt. Even raising my sniper hurt. There was a pain they'd accessed inside me that couldn't be nursed back to health. I think my faith in others had been wiped out completely. I couldn't allow myself to stick around with people anymore. No matter how hungry or starved for contact I was, I had to keep to myself because the consequences of what had happened the last time I allowed myself to feel safe, were still fresh and raw and would never leave me. Those initial weeks after escape, made me nearly as bad as the walkers themselves."

"And now the bastards are after you 'cause you killed one of theirs?" Shane confirmed.

Unexpectedly, Paige let out a short, sharp laugh, lips twisting into a dark grin.

"Oh, no. I did worse than that. After I got out of the basement, I began a revolution," she proclaimed. "Only Elijah was on guard that night, but I watched him enough times to know where to find their weapons. I busted open the lock to the shed, grabbed as many weapons as I could, then began sneaking into the tents, arming the people inside them. Adley and Lawrence were sleeping in their own, and we avoided theirs until I could arm as many people as possible. Around eleven or so. Some refused theirs, too afraid to hope that a time was upon them where freedom was achievable. Others grabbed at the weapons as if they'd been preparing for that moment all their lives."

"You guys fought back," Andrea slowly smiled.

"We would have...but luck has to run out sometime. One of the women, Emilie, shot at Elijah, but it grazed his leg and he managed to stumble off into the woods. That one shot was probably the loudest thing I'd heard in my life. And it didn't just awake Adley and Lawrence. It awoke any creature passing by. Including a pack of walkers. This was the first time I realized Atlanta had truly fallen. When the walkers attacked, I recognized some of their clothes. Former businessmen. Florists. Restaurant owners. All of them had traces of what was left of Atlanta on them. And it told me that these packs would come to be more common."

"You fled when the walkers attacked?" Glenn inquired.

"I know I should have stayed to help out, but I could only think to grab my sniper, my backbag, then get the hell out of there. It was chaos. Bloody chaos. Shots fired, some hitting the walkers, some hitting our own. You couldn't tell which way friendly fire was coming from or which direction the walkers were pouring in."

"The cadets survived," T-Dog assumed.

"The cadets survived," Paige nodded. "I made my way toward the road Elijah had first led me down, hoping to follow back on a path leading me toward a river, but I ran into Lawrence along the way. He was fighting off walkers left and right and for a moment, our eyes found each others. I don't know how he was able to see my guilt so plainly, but before I sprinted out of there, he vowed that they'd find me and kill me. It didn't matter how far I went. They would find me. And true to their word, they have."

"Shit," Shane mumbled.

"If you want to reconsider your decision, I'm alright with that," Paige reminded, turning to Rick. "If they've gone through hell to find me, I'm positive they're not going to be scared off just because you're offering me protection."

"Like hell we're throwing you back in their path," Shane argued. "I knew you'd been through some stuff when I first saw you, but nothing like what you said. I don't get why you're not letting us help you."

"Like I let them help me?" Paige recalled, scanning the faces peering intently back at her. "You all have been so paranoid about me. Who I am. What I'm capable of. Where I'm from. If I'm trustworthy. Have you even stopped to consider how petrified I am of all of you? Though I've relaxed considerably and have learned to deal with what happened in the month I spent by myself, it still hasn't made me any better at letting people get close. I may put on a good show, I may chat politely with you, but at the end of the day, I trust no one. It's not safe for me to anymore. Does that answer your question of why I'm constantly breaking away from this group? I trust _no one_ but myself."

She didn't mean to sound so harsh, but the words had been lingering heavily in the back of her mind for awhile now. And the near accusation she heard in Shane's tone, only lit up the will to defend her actions.

_Am I really that mistrusting of them? Of all of them?_

Paige reluctantly glanced to her left, letting out a soft sigh.

"I'm starting to trust you, though."

Daryl didn't react to her words, his face completely wiped away of any expression. But she didn't regret adding in this fact.

Because now, there was no denying it. Something unseen existed between them. Whether it was the exchange of saving each other's lives, or perhaps ignited within the false kiss they shared. She didn't know.

But Daryl was the closest person she felt to in the entire group, perhaps finding so much of herself in him at times, and through his actions, however frustrating, she felt that part of her so sworn not to trust again, fading away. Left instead was a new sensation she hadn't experienced in a hell of a long time.

Hope.

"I'm sorry we misjudged you," Andrea managed out after the gritty silence.

Breaking away from Daryl's intense, blue gaze, Paige found the group's stares once more.

"I shouldn't have been so crass," she apologized. "You've been nothing but helpful to me."

"And you've been nothing but kind to us," Rick finished. "I think you're right. You shouldn't have to be working at gaining our trust. We should be working at gaining yours. Because I know you'll start thinking we can't protect you. Or that leaving will help us so they don't come here. However long it takes, just stay here and allow yourself to rebuild."

There was a simultaneous bow of agreement from everyone else, including Lori.

"I'm sorry you went through what you had to," she voiced.

"It's fine," Paige lied. "I just want you all to be aware of what you're up against."

"We are," the sheriff agreed. "And I want you to know that you have our help for as long as you need it."

"Thank you."

Rick nodded.

And with this gesture, one by one, the group seemed to relax, though they all still watched her carefully. But, Paige didn't think they were stares of pity.

Rather, they reflected their own official acceptance into their camp.

"We should all get some rest," Rick declared. "I'll be on watch tonight along with T-Dog. Paige, you can take T-Dog's cot and Glenn, you can bunk with Daryl for the night."

This order startled every one, including Daryl who finally broke his silence.

"Considerin' she trusts me more, I'd think you'd want her t'a stay in my tent for the night."

There was a dangerous grumble in the tone, detectable to Paige's ears as the hunter gazed coolly at the sheriff.

"I think this arrangement would be for the best tonight," Rick answered neutrally.

Daryl stared him down a few more seconds, jaw clenched, before turning away and stomping off.

Paige watched him leave, feeling disappointment, of all emotions. While she'd been absolutely steamed at Daryl earlier in the night, she couldn't deny that what he'd said was true. She felt a lot more at ease sleeping inside his tent.

But at this moment, she decided on staying quiet. Rick had an obvious reason for this reversal of sleeping arrangements and she was honestly becoming too tired to argue.

"Thanks for sharing your story."

"Thanks for listening," she nodded to Rick. "If you see either of them, tell me, okay? Adley is skinnier with black, jaw-length hair. He's got hazel eyes. Lawrence is a bit more built and has his blonde hair in a constant buzz cut with dark, brown eyes."

"I'll let you know, but I don't want you to get panicked. Work on trusting that we'll help you out, alright?"

"Okay," Paige agreed, knowing it was easier said than done.

With that, the group slowly began dispersing. Shane retreated back to his tent, but not without throwing her a few more glances. Lori went off to find Carl. T-Dog trekked his way over to the pathway leading into the woods, throwing it a few suspicious looks. Glenn offered her a smile before reluctantly making his way toward Daryl's tent.

Rick, on the other hand, must have known Daryl's location because he made his way past the tent and into the nearby woods.

Dale and Andrea stood before her and Paige offered them a bleary smile as she blinked a few times.

"If you need anything, please ask," Andrea expressed.

"Thank you," Paige repeated, falling into a stroll between the two as they found their way to the camper.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

"Daryl, let me explain what I did back there."

Daryl offered the sheriff a glare before staring off into the woods again, lips set in a tight line.

"It'll make sense if you just let me explain it. I promise it's nothing against you."

"She feels comfortable 'round me. Why th'a hell you havin' her sleep somewhere else?"

Rick released a deep sigh, leaning back against the tree beside Daryl's.

"Paige was raped."

Despite the incoming darkness of the night, he detected Daryl's flinch at the comment.

"There was an incident, back when I was still a deputy," Rick began, knowing Daryl wouldn't say another word unless he explained himself. "A teenage girl decided to meet up with an online boyfriend she'd known for three months. Wasn't any older than fifteen. He picked her up and took her to a motel. What she didn't realize was that the guy brought a few of his friends. They spent hours taking turns, raping her in the room before leaving her beaten and naked on the bed. I still remember the girl coming into the station, unable to form words or explain what had happened to her. Eventually, she did, but refused to file charges against her attacker. The best we could do for her after that was offer counseling. For a few months, it looked like she was beginning to find herself again. Then out of the blue, we get a call from the girl's mother at her home. The girl killed herself."

Daryl's eyes were trained on him through the darkness, and with this attention, Rick studied the hunter carefully.

"What almost happened to Paige and what did, aren't things we can take lightly. I'm more astounded at her ability to accept what happened. Nor can I deny what I'm seeing happening, and that's your growing attachment to her. Which is good. She needs to put her faith into somebody so it can be restored."

Rick paused for a moment, making sure Daryl was still with him. And that what he wanted to say next, wouldn't come out the wrong way.

"_But_ I don't recommend acting out on anything more than being someone she can talk to. There's a trigger inside people who've had sexually traumatic experiences. If you show her too much affection too soon, I'm afraid she'll find herself reliving the nights back at the base...or worse. However healed we think she may be, however stable she handles situations, don't forget that when she closes her eyes, she faces what happened to her every single night at that base. I guess I'm asking...don't get involved with her anywhere past being a friend. Her own state of mind may depend on it."

The hunter didn't say anything for a long while, but Rick knew the man was angry. Whether it was because he finally called him out on the odd relationship he carried with Paige or because he didn't care for his request, Rick wasn't sure. But just by a glance, he could tell the man wasn't too pleased with him right about now.

Daryl ended up stunning him, however, passing by without a single glance.

Just before the woods ensnarled his form, the hunter offered a departing statement.

"Tha girl's a lot stronger than ya think. Think she's always been tough. Don't forget that the next time y'er tellin' me to keep my hands t'a myself."

And with that, Daryl disappeared into the dark.

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**Next chapter and we have Daryl's thoughts to what Paige revealed. A revelation will hit him that will indeed change their relationship, despite Rick's protest. Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


	8. Running

**As always, thank you greatly for the reviews. Inspiration and love is what they are and make me feel. I kind of rearranged this chapter regarding Daryl's feelings on what happened to Paige. Originally, I was going to do it from his POV, but Paige wanted to be written so I've done it through her POV instead. Hope you enjoy as our duo begin exploring each other...emotionally!**

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**Chapter 8 - Running**

"You're staring at me. Again."

Daryl's eyes flicked back to the arrow, fingers deftly wiping at the sharp steel with a cloth. He made no indication that he'd heard her, but neither did he hide the fact that he'd been cleaning the same part of the weapon for a good ten minutes.

Paige glanced around, understanding she wasn't going to get a response from the moody man. Which irked her slightly, but what did she honestly expect? The man guarded his true thoughts on impulse.

So, stifling a yawn, she blinked a few times, fingers rubbing out the crust in her eyes.

This early in the morning, with the light hardly cracking through the horizon, she and Daryl were the only ones awake, currently settled around a gently crackling fire.

Normally, she'd take whatever hours she could get and indulge in sleep, but a nightmare had knocked her out of a restful slumber. To find solace (and escape Dale's voluminous snores), she'd snuck out into the early dawn, hoping to cool off from the rising heat in her body.

The escape from the stuffy camper had worked tremendously, giving her a public setting to focus on instead, and if she squinted far enough toward the canopy of the trees in the east, she could detect the transformation of a navy blue sky into a faint, faded orange.

Already, she felt safer in this new haven, an intriguing thought of its own, though a worrying one as well.

_It's not going to happen here. These are good people. They have unity and structure. They...understand._

For the moment, this thought reassured her. And of course, what she saw out of the corner of both eyes, helped as well.

Every so often, she'd catch Rick and T-Dog's diligent figures meandering around the site, guns strapped to their sides. Rick had noticed her as soon as she sat down by the dim embers hopping in the fire pit. He immediately offered her a smile, and with it, Paige felt better. More assured of her place among the group, even if she didn't quite know what that place was yet.

In fact, in just that little gesture of acceptance, she could finally acknowledge, only to herself of course, that she trusted and respected Rick. More than anyone else at the camp site, save for Daryl. Though sometimes, she wondered how the hell that was possible since the hunter constantly appeared as if he didn't give two shits about her.

Despite the admiration for what Rick and T-Dog were doing, she also couldn't help but feel shame anchored inside her. Quite honestly, and she made it an annoying habit to remind herself of this whenever she felt she was getting too comfortable, if it weren't for her, at least one of them would get a proper rest and not have to worry about the threat she had brought into their lives.

Instead, they were preparing to fight her battle with no proper understanding of what the two psychopaths could do.

She physically had to restrain her thoughts from considering escape. Even if in that way, they'd at least be safe.

_Shut up, Paige. You know that some group would eventually stumble upon them, with or without you. It's better this one is not only informed, but ready for them. _

Releasing a tense breath, Paige nodded shakily to herself, eyes flying up from the fire pit.

Only to detect Daryl's blue gaze aimed on her once more through his lanky bangs.

"Take a picture, Daryl. Your staring is creeping me out."

The man released a low grunt, head shooting back to the arrow in his hand.

"I ain't starin' at you."

"No, of course not," she deadpanned through a tired smile, casting him a sidelong glance. "You're just admiring the particular set of trees behind me. So very different than the ones all around _you_."

The man renewed cleaning the head, though she noted his movements were a bit jerkier.

_He knows I'm on to him. How do I go about this?_

"I can't listen to Dale's snoring anymore," she remarked nonchalantly. "Since there's a spot open in your tent, I think I'll go and cozy up next to Glenn."

Instantly, Daryl's head snapped in her direction, arrow slipping from his calloused fingers.

"He's warm _enough _without y'er help," he stated tersely.

"I don't know," she mused. "You are further away from everyone else, leaning more towars the woods where there's a stronger breeze. Maybe Glenn is in need of some...body heat."

Paige would have laughed at the murderous expression possessing Daryl's features, if it wasn't so damned imposing. In fact, with the look he gave her, she briefly regretted using Glenn as bait.

Then again, at least she got him talking.

"He ain't interested," Daryl assured, though the danger still hadn't exited his voice.

"I'll decide that for myself."

And with that, she moved to stand up.

"Th'a hell you so interested in that kid for?"

Allowing a small smile to form, Paige shrugged. "First, he's a grown man, not a kid. Secondly, if he wanted to discuss something, he wouldn't resort to petty staring when I wasn't looking in order to discuss it."

"I ain't-."

"Shut up."

The order successfully quieted the man, though Paige couldn't let it show that his compliance surprised her.

"Daryl," she tried more gently, "I don't know what you're thinking. I'm not telepathic. But I have the impression you want to talk about what you're thinking because you're _letting_ me catch you staring. Please, let's talk about it now before the moment is lost and I really do take myself up on that offer and settle down with Glenn."

Indecisiveness briefly flickered across Daryl's face, as if he wasn't quite sure whether her words held truth in them.

But Paige made sure to keep her eyes glued to his own. He needed to know her offer wasn't conceived out of a false sense of pity.

"You were raped."

Daryl spoke this quietly, and with the soft admittance, Paige slowly sat down again.

"I was," she agreed.

"Y'er...handlin' it pretty well."

Unsure if this was a statement or a question, Paige brought both hands together. She knew without hesitation from the emptiness in Daryl's voice that her story had been weighing down on him for a good few hours. And while a part of her shied away from any further talk of what happened, another understood that this would be good not only for her state of mind, but Daryl's as well.

"I didn't really have the luxury of crying or admitting defeat. I had to accept it and move on. Which isn't anything new. I've had to move on from tragedies in my life before. It was just a bit tougher this time because I hadn't realized how lonely accepting what happened would be."

"Bad stuffs happened to ya before?"

She knew he didn't mean to pry with the question, and solely because of this reason, Paige didn't feel that initial reluctance to talk about such a sensitive memory like she had for so long.

"I lost my family in a car crash four years ago."

"That's tough," Daryl noted, eying her carefully. "That part o' the reason you ain't good friends with th'a man upstairs?"

"Mostly, yes."

"And the reason you'd been in therapy?"

"Yes. Biggest pain I've had to accept to this day."

A thick silence fell between them, interrupted only by the few birds chirping in their nests as the horizon gradually allowed more light to filter through.

"Bigger than what happened t'a you at the base?"

"Yes," she admitted easily. "At the base, a part of me was taken without my consent. And as horrifying and humiliating as it was - humiliating because I was cowardly enough to consider ending my life - eventually, I found the strength inside me and survived. I healed because I assured myself I would never let it happen again. So far, I've been successful in that promise. Not to say I still don't have some of the nightmares that place gave me and that both Adley and Lawrence can't manage to scare me stiff if I give them too much thought. But I'm coming to be comfortable around people again. And that tells me whether I'm aware of it or not, I'm moving on. A far different process than what happened after my parents and brother died. After they were gone, I felt nothing for a long time. I didn't make the attempt at feeling anything either."

"World weren't what it is now," he pointed out. "Ya had the choice t'a grieve."

"That is true. But even if it were, I fear I might have allowed myself to stay isolated and numb."

"Y'a survived. Like y'a always do. That don't exist in everyone. I...admire y'er preservation skills. Remind me o' mine own."

His words stirred something warm and pleasant inside her tummy, oddly reminiscent of the fake kiss they'd shared in the woods. And the more Paige comprehended Daryl was telling her he admired her, the warmer that feeling got. It wasn't pesky like her body had been inside the camper. Rather, it felt familiar. Like the way her family used to make her feel.

"Maybe the tough stuff in life prepared us for the kind of world we're living in now," Paige reasoned, never really having taken the time to wonder how it is she'd gotten so far.

Survival was what she had always assumed. If you took the time to stop and cry, a flesh eating bastard would take advantage of that weakness. There simply wasn't the chance to anymore.

But maybe she'd been better prepared for handling the turbulence of a post apocalyptic life because she'd already suffered loss and heartache before. Maybe she was moving on so soon because she knew from previous instances, that life would keep going on without you if you didn't.

As she studied Daryl, who in turn studied her, Paige could finally not only understand, but visually see in just his eyes that reflected something so familiar swimming in her own, their mutual ability to survive. And that he'd faced many hardships in his life much like she had, most likely more physical, but just as momentous to him in the long run as hers had been.

"What are the chances we actually find each other in this craziness?" she marveled, unable to hide a smile. "Two survivors who were probably more prepared for living like lonely wanderers than either of us realized?"

To her surprise, Daryl laughed, quietly but enough to where it caused his chest to rumble.

"Dunno," he shrugged, eyes finding her own. "Never thought my bein' a redneck would ever pay off."

This time, it was Paige's turn to laugh, the noise a melancholy music to her ears. It'd been entirely far too long of a time since she'd had the opportunity to engage in something so simple, yet soothing as laughing.

"So you're okay with me calling you one?"

"Don't care. But be careful what ya say. Few months back, some yankee at a bar 'ccused me of bein' married t'a my sister. Don't have a sister, but the asshole thought he was bein' funny. Things got real fuckin' hilarious when I smashed a bottle over his head."

"Nice," she approved. "I can tell I'm in the presence of a real badass."

"No speech 'bout how stupid my actions were?"

Puzzled, Paige tilted her head.

"Should there be one? The guy had it coming, spewing off on stereotypes and harassing you. Maybe that crack to the head nudged his common sense."

"Don't think there was any t'a begin with," he stated soberly, though a smile sparked at her words. "Week or so later, people started turnin' into walkers. Here I am with Merle, runnin' home when we run into the bastard. Figures he'd be one of th'a first t'a be turned."

"Did you kill him?"

"Merle did. But it was a learnin' experience on how to kill the walkers. Didn't stop twitchin' 'til Merle shoved his huntin' knife through the guy's skull."

"Christ," she exclaimed. "It takes a lot of strength to get the knife through the skull."

"If there was anyone more prepared than I was, it'd be Merle. Killed three of 'em just on the way back home."

"That is impressive," she whistled, glancing up at the sky.

Above them, pinkish hues and oranges were running rampant like molasses, making way for the eventual baby blue to overtake them. In the atmosphere, a mugginess had settled in, making it probable that rain would hit that sometime later in the day. Thankfully, a breeze out of the north supplied their skin from succumbing to the sweats.

It took a good minute for Paige to put a finger on the feeling currently spreading its way through her. One she hadn't felt in an unbelievble amount of time.

Contentment.

For just a moment, she could honestly forget that there existed walkers in this world, intent on depopulating the remaining survivors. She could forget there exited people like Adley and Lawrence, terrorizing whomever they could to feel an inkling of control over their lives. She could even forget her loneliness.

Right now, all that existed was the gloriously vast sky above and Daryl. A combination that suddenly made all the troubles in the world tolerable.

She didn't know how long the sky had taken her attention for, but when Paige finally manged to tear her eyes away, Daryl's intense gaze was aimed focused on her.

Something mystical and knowing existed in the indigo blue of his eyes, and because of it, her next question seemed unstoppable.

"Do you feel it too?"

It was nearly a whisper, almost softer than the crackling of the twigs in the fire pit.

But Daryl heard it loud and clear.

Rather than answer her, however, his eyes fell to the pathway T-Dog currently guarded, features sober once more. No one would have been able to tell that only minutes prior, they'd both been engaging in a humorous banter about Daryl's life before the apocalypse.

"I ain't gonna let them hurt ya," the man suddenly proclaimed.

Surprised, Paige replied, "It's not your responsib-."

"Listen to what I'm sayin', woman," Daryl restated decisively, gaze snapping back to her. "From day one, you were _my_ responsibility. Moment you saved my life. I kept thinkin' the need to repay ya would go away, but th'a opposite happened. Not sure how, but I ain't gonna ignore it. 'Specially since you got th'a guts t'a be more open wit' me than anyone else. Tells me y'er deservin' of some peace after the months of runnin'. And don't think I'm callin' ya weak. Don't know if many people coulda survived what happened at the base in one piece. But whether ya like it or not, I ain't restin' or lettin' ya outta my sight 'til both cadets are dead."

"But-."

"End of story," he decided. "Runnin' from them ain't movin' on. Facin' them is strength. Ya did it before and look at what ya managed to do. Not only save y'er own ass, but everyone else at the base. Difference this time around is ya won't be alone to face them."

The urge to disagree was there, but so was understanding in what he said. By running, she had only delayed the inevitable. And she always would so long as she isolated herself from any form of aid.

But now, the time had come to where a decision would have to be made. And even though Daryl made it sound as if it'd already been made for her, she knew he was gauging her for a reaction. For an answer. Either face these people who had made surviving nearly impossible at one point or look over her shoulder for the rest of her life.

Sighing, Paige glanced at the fire pit, knowing already what her answer would be. And unfortunately, it wasn't until this moment that she realized she needed somebody like Daryl to make her see reason again. To force her to acknowledge the strength inside her, especially since she wasn't going to.

"Do you offer personal body guard service to all women you meet?"

"Just the ones too stubborn t'a accept the help. So far, that'd only be you."

A smile tugged at her lips.

"Okay then. I accept your help, Daryl. Officially. But the following me around wherever I go...I'm hoping that's just an exaggeration."

"Depends on how smart ya are when it comes to y'er surroundings."

"I'm always smart," she defended.

"Each time I've left ya alone, you've almost died. 'Xcuse me if I ain't investin' much in y'er smarts."

"Dick."

He glanced sharply at her, and Paige fought back the urge to laugh.

"Sorry. That was supposed to stay in my head."

"Bit afraid of what goes on in y'er head."

"Me too," she agreed with a sigh.

Seconds later and Paige finally realized what exactly she'd agreed to.

But hell would freeze over before Daryl knew how safe and..._relieved _his promise made her feel. If she let him know now, he would never let her live it down. Silent he may be, but he had a wicked confidence about him. One she didn't need to unfairly unleash upon herself. Even if it suited him quite nicely.

Very nicely, actually.

_Let's look at the sky, Paige. The sky is nice this morning, isn't it?_

Yes, yes it was.

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**Bit of a short chapter, but we're working our way through the beginnings of a relationship. I promise someone will be kissed next chapter. Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


	9. Drunk

**Don't worry, I didn't die. Just been trying to figure out how this chapter was going to work itself out. See, I enjoy progression because it's believable, but I also enjoy shit going down. This chapter is a strange mixture of both. And I've got some characters doing their own thing while some are struggling to cope and comprehend. I'm proud of it, but that means nothing some times. Hope you enjoy it, regardless! And thank you as always for the lovely, thoughtful reviews!**

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**Chapter 9 - Drunk**

"Hey, new girl."

"I have a name," Paige reminded, eyes breaking away from her sniper.

Shane looked momentarily embarrassed, scratching the back of his head.

"Sorry 'bout that. Paige, right?"

"At least we have a good memory," she congratulated, swinging Winston over her shoulder.

"Hey, better than what Daryl used to call ya before he knew."

Intrigued, she meandered her way toward the sheriff, being careful to not upset the vegetation beneath her feet. She never liked leaving noticeable traces of herself, especially in the woods. And even though she wasn't far from the camp site, her level of alertness since discovering Adley and Lawrence's presence was now at an all time high.

"Dare I ask?"

"Rick thought it was kinda amusing. Grass Fox."

Reluctant to show that the nickname really wasn't all too bad and that she'd been called far worse, Paige settled for a small grin.

"Figures he'd name me after an animal. What are you doing out here?"

"Just making sure you're alright."

Pausing, she raised a disbelieving brow.

"I mean no offense, but I've heard better excuses from drunk husbands to their wives."

Chuckling, Shane nodded to himself, eying her.

"Alright. I guess I wanna know how good you are with guns. Care to go on a little hunting expedition?"

"And what are we hunting?"

"Whatever you can get a shot at."

Seconds later and she was receiving a 9 MM handgun with a silencer firmly attached.

"I've known guys back at the department who could hit a target from two hundred meters away, but when it came to close distance, had a better chance at hitting their foot," Shane revealed. "I think it's only fair you're able to get good shots up close."

"And to think the good people of your town trusted you guys as sheriffs," she marveled, smiling halfway through the statement.

"You're just full of witty retorts today, aren't ya?"

"Sorry," she confessed, sobering up. "It's been a long morning and everything is still a bit...awkward...at the camp. No one knows how to look at me in the eye, and if they do, it isn't for long."

"They'll come around. Ain't every day you hear a story like that," he reasoned. "I saw you and Dixon talking this morning. Everything alright there?"

Rather than answer, Paige's mouth slowly parted. "His last name is _Dixon_? Like the cups?"

"Yeah. Guess I never made that connection," he laughed.

"Oh, this is fantastic. Just another thing I can tease him about."

"You alright with him then?"

"He's a good guy. You just have to push past his stubbornness."

Shane still seemed like he had something to say, but didn't know quite how to go about with it.

"We're not together, you know," she defended, fighting the urge to cross her arms. "And even if I wanted that, I doubt he'd ever let me get that close."

She didn't know why she felt obliged to add in that last blurb, but it didn't make the statement any less truer. Daryl Dixon was as unattainable as democracy in Cuba.

"It ain't that," Shane denied. "And I'd hope you'd be smarter than starting a relationship with Daryl. Don't think anything comes between him and his crossbow-."

Paige shrugged in whole-hearted agreement there.

"-but he's been watching you awfully sharp this morning and afternoon. Shocked he hasn't followed you out here. You alright with that?"

Sighing, Paige's thumbs slid back and forth over the handle of the gun, a silent method of soothing her thoughts.

"Daryl and I have come to...an arrangement. His staring is an effect of that arrangement. But it's all in good intention."

Again, Shane appeared as if he wanted to push the issue, but Paige didn't feel like having a full-fledged discussion. While the sheriff had been kind to her so far, it didn't mean she trusted him well enough to divulge what truly rattled around inside her mind. And the fact that he couldn't notice she didn't want to talk about it, only helped solidify her silence.

So, she redirected the topic.

"I have very shitty sneakers. Prepare to carry me back if I shoot off all my toes."

"That's a promise I'm holding you to."

With that break in tension, Paige followed after Shane, unaware of the figure perched against the opposite side of a tree no more than ten feet from where they'd been.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

Daryl hadn't meant to follow her. In fact, if he really thought about it too hard, it made him look down right creepy. Followin' around the new girl.

But her desertin' the camp left him no choice. If he was gonna go through with his plan to protect her, it meant knowin' where she was. And bein' there if somethin' went south.

Originally, when she'd first meandered off into th'a woods, sniper in hand, he assumed that cowardly side of her had taken over and she decided on goin' it alone again. Wouldn't exactly shock him.

However, after keepin' a careful trail on her languid, almost carefree movements, he recognized she just needed some space and quiet time to think, as evident when she finally stopped in a brush and released a lengthy sigh.

He probably could have left then and there. She wasn't more than fifty feet from the camp site and if she screamed, everyone would come runnin'. Plus, this little expedition looked personal. Who was he to invade it when he'd done much of the same before?

For some reason, though, he kept to the trunks of the trees instead, spendin' part o' his time surveyin' the area and another part watchin' her.

He didn't know why the latter task comforted him. Almost to the point of it bein' weird.

Originally, he reasoned that maybe it was 'cause he recognized how in tune and at ease she looked, surrounded by the woods. College kid she may have been, but her knowledge and awareness of a place many easily died in just because they didn't know their plants or berries good enough, was somethin' he outwardly admired.

But then, without his awareness, his brain reached a simple conclusion. She was, in ways, a reflection of himself and seein' how natural she looked in her environment stopped making him feel so alone for havin' enjoyed the outdoors as much as he did.

He didn't know how long she sat on the trunks of a dying Hardwood, head tilted back, thumbs brushing over Winston, seemingly detachin' herself from the chaos 'round them. But it'd be sufficient to say that at one point, he watched her longer than he did for a surrounding threat.

And that's why Shane sneakin' up on her startled him as well.

Initially, he'd been pretty pissed at the sudden invasion for two different reasons.

One of them bein' that he let his guard down again, doin' somethin' as reckless as watchin' someone who would get pissed knowin' he was there. In his head, he could practically hear Merle scowlin' at his pussy behavior. Losin' his head 'cause a girl was more interestin'. And even though part o' him defended his actions, the side bred outta bein' brothers with Merle reminded him that this was exactly the kind of behavior that led to him nearly dyin' last time around.

When Shane started speakin', Daryl almost became concerned at how fast that first wave of anger passed, only to be replaced by a more ferocious kind he didn't know how to pinpoint, though he felt it prominently in his lower abdomen. Like lava was sloshin' around inside him. He also realized it bore an uncanny resemblance to the kind he'd felt earlier in the mornin' when Paige told him she was gonna cozy up with Glenn.

For a short while, he listened from behind the tree as they talked about him.

Daryl never really felt strongly one way or the other regardin' Shane. The man helped significantly decrease the walker population. It was a good enough contribution, he thought.

But the more he butted in t'a his and Paige's relationship, the less he cared about how skilled the sheriff was with guns. All he wanted was for him t'a stop talkin' and get the hell back to camp. Especially since his gaze lasted on her a little longer than necessary each time he eyed her.

Unfortunately, Paige felt differently and took him up on his offer to go target practicin'.

When they finally departed, Daryl had half a mind to trail after them.

However, logic finally returned to him and he reminded himself how creepy it'd be t'a stalk her. He promised t'a keep her safe, not follow every move she made. And even if he wanted t'a send an arrow right int'a Shane's groin, Daryl understood Paige needed her distance and had to learn t'a shoot better with someone who was well trained with guns.

So, reluctantly, he pushed himself away from the tree and shot off the opposite way, hopin' the rapidly coolin' lava inside him would evaporate sometime soon.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

"You look like you want to pummel something repeatedly."

Glancing up, Daryl bit down on his retort upon seein' the figure, not up t'a discussin' his current mindset.

"Just an observation," Andrea noted a moment later, holding up both hands. "You alright?"

Above them, thunder crackled threateningly, and briefly, Daryl noted the sky reflected his mood quite accurately right 'bout now.

"Just peachy," he grumbled back, eyes shootin' over her blonde head.

"Shane will bring her back," she assured, crossing her arms. "He said they'd only be gone for about an hour. Soon as the clouds started rolling in, I'm sure they took off."

"Ain't worried 'bout that," Daryl brushed off, surprising himself by the casual conversation. "She's smart and knows how to manage through the woods. Can't say the same f'er Shane, though."

"He may not have been raised in the wild like _some_ people, but he knows this area well enough," Andrea defended with a shrug. "They'll be back before the rain starts."

Daryl didn't respond and because of this, Andrea observed him once more.

He must have given something away in his facial expressions because the next time he glanced at her, a small smile played itself on her lips.

"Shane is smart enough not to try anything with her."

Furrowing his brow, Daryl blurted, "Where the hell did that come from?"

"Oh, please. It's obvious you care about her. At least to me, it is. I'm just trying to soothe your worries. Plus, he's still hung up on Lori."

Further confused, Daryl wanted to reply, but he was at a loss on what to say.

"But you didn't hear that from me," she continued, her smile threatening to become a smirk as she inched closer to him, steps a bit wobbly. "Besides, who the hell would wanna get between the insane sexual tension you and Paige have? Makes me miss popcorn for the first time in my life."

"What the _hell_ are you talkin' about?"

The longer Andrea studied the hunter, the more amazed she looked, her normally complacent face becoming a whirlwind of emotions.

"Holy shit," she exclaimed, mouth opening. "I knew you were stubborn, but this is extreme even in your case."

His response was interrupted by another rumble of thunder, bouncing off the trees around them like instruments inside a crowded amphitheatre.

But this didn't stop Andrea whose face for the first time in too many months to count, actually appeared animated.

"You like Paige and you're jealous that Shane is alone out there with her. Being jealous is perfectly natural."

Daryl's confusion continued to overtake him as he stared at her like she'd just grown another head.

"Fuck you."

Raising both eyebrows, Andrea released a giddy laugh, surprising herself.

"I call you out on your feelings and you return with that response? Give me a break, Daryl. You're a lot smarter than that. Stop being a pussy and hiding from your feelings. Everyone's days are numbered and being alone sucks. You're lucky to have found someone who makes it so hard for you to look like you don't care."

Again, Daryl opened his mouth, but Andrea waved off whatever he was going to say with a dramatic swipe of a hand through the air, peddling backwards.

"Hope that helped!" she brightly cheered.

Before he could even think up a response, she began stumbling her way backwards, seemingly losing balance with each step.

His confusion was so intense that he didn't acknowledge Glenn's presence ten minutes later, staring down at the ground instead like something had truly befuddled him.

"What?" he finally snapped.

Unfazed by the hostility aimed his way, Glenn jerked his head toward Dale's camper.

"Don't go in the trailer for awhile."

"Wasn't plannin' on it. Why?"

"Andrea's drunk."

"No shit," Daryl expressed, feeling stupid for not having picked up on it the moment she started talkin' to him. "Thought we didn't have any more alcohol left."

"She went through Paige's stuff. Drank the last bottle of Smirnoff she had."

Suddenly, Daryl's confusion morphed into anger.

"The hell she do that for?"

"Before you go and crucify her, remember all she's been through."

"Still don't explain why the hell she chugged down someone else's liquor. I think the issues Paige has, requires the bottle more."

"It was my fault," Glenn admitted, looking defeated. "I slipped up and mentioned Amy. And at first, I thought Andrea would just forget about it. I didn't know she was drunk until I found the empty bottle inside the camper and saw her stumbling away from you. This is the first night she's broken down since killing her sister. Just...give her a break."

Relaxing slightly, Daryl's eyes flew back to the trees.

"She gonna be okay?"

"Dale's trying to calm her down. I think she's crying. It's probably best we leave her alone for the night. She's supposed to be on watch, but I don't think Shane will mind taking over."

Nodding, Daryl settled on keepin' silent, unwilling to admit that despite Andrea's drunken banter, she had thrown in some fair points. He especially ignored the part o' him that could finally identify that fiery feeling in his stomach from earlier as nothin' short of jealousy.

Once more, the entire camp ground shook with the growls of thunder, echoing with a vicious promise and darkening the clouds above into a murky silver.

Seconds later, the rain drops dropped down all at once as if released from a bursting levee.

"They're still out there," Glenn exclaimed a moment later, raising his voice over the combined threat of thunder and lightning.

Daryl fought down the unease squirming around inside him, stalking past Glenn. And he would have continued all the way into the woods had someone not grabbed his bicep.

"You've gotta trust them to come back," Rick shouted, releasing his arm. "Right now, we need the man power here, just in case. With Shane gone and Dale comforting Andrea, you're my best shooter. And you know as well as I that the walkers can get rowdy when it storms like this."

"And if Shane got her lost?" he snapped back.

"Then we'll set off to find them together. As a group," the deputy promised, his response momentarily deafened by the roaring thunder above. "Shane knows what he's doing. If it's real bad, they might be taking shelter."

Rick made it a careful point to keep Daryl's gaze despite the rain drops slapping violently against his skin, drenching everything from his black, shaggy hair to his newly cleaned uniform.

And eventually, this silent treatment worked.

Biting back a deep grumble, Daryl found himself nodding reluctantly. He understood Rick's reasonin', more to the point, he knew if he were in the same position - protectin' an entire group - he wouldn't want the best people at defendin', to suddenly run off and leave an area susceptible to attack. 'Specially since the walkers weren't the only things they had to worry 'bout anymore.

"You're welcome to keep guard with T-Dog and I," Rick reasoned. "But don't assume the worst yet. You said it yourself. She's tougher than I've given her credit for."

In his own way, Daryl understood this was Rick's way of apologizing for what he'd said earlier. And without reactin' to the statement, he forgave the deputy with a wordless nod.

"Lori's holed up in my tent with Carl along with Carol and Sophia. Glenn and T-Dog got the area around their tent and the camper. We can watch the trails."

Daryl only repeated his nod, following after Rick's form.

DPDDPDDPDDPD

It took thirty minutes before the trail Daryl had been glaring at without mercy, finally showcased two moving bodies.

"Rick."

His deep shout got the deputy's attention and they both raised their weapons, preparing themselves for whatever or whoever stumbled forth.

Seconds later and a soaked Shane and Paige protruded from the mass of wet brown and clear green.

Immediately, Rick lowered his gun and Daryl his crossbow because what they saw caused an internal panic to ignite inside them both.

Strewn all down the front of Paige's manila t-shirt, as if a bucket had been dumped on her torso, was a sickening amount of crimson blood.

"What happened?" Rick questioned once the duo came within ten feet, eyes searching Paige with concern. "Are you hurt?"

Shane didn't respond, bowing his head, and instantly, this alerted both men that something was off.

"I'm fine," Paige assured, throwing Shane a quick glance he didn't meet. "We're both...fine."

"Y'er shirt," Daryl pointed out, resisting the urge to touch the blood stain.

"A bit ruined, but wearable. I'm not complaining," she shrugged, an optimistic smile reaching her lips.

"What happened?"

Rick was staring at Shane as he asked this, but the sheriff continued up his unnatural silence, head still lowered.

"We uh...encountered a walker from a bit closer than Shane intended," Paige explained cautiously. "Good news? I'm a natural at close range firing. Bad news? We got the shit scared out of us and if I wasn't already so cold, you could see that my hands are still shaking."

"How close did the walker get?" Daryl demanded.

Picking up on his tone, Paige's smile dissolved.

"Don't blame Shane. It was my fault for not seeing the walker until he was nearly on me."

"That still don't make any sense. If you could pick out the walker in that brush, you'd be able to catch one that splattered themselves all over you."

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but it's thundering like a mother, Daryl. I wouldn't be able to hear if bigfoot himself snuck up on me. Can't you just be happy that I'm still alive?"

That question shut him right up, as did the frustration evident on her features.

"Now," she continued, a bit more tiredly, "I'm going to go cozy up in some blankets and try to forget that I nearly died."

With that, she made to move past him.

"Wait," Rick stopped her, "Andrea's feeling a bit...overwhelmed and Dale's talking her through some things in the camper."

"So I get a new bed buddy tonight?"

Shane finally raised his head at this and Paige met his eyes, face suddenly unreadable.

"I'll take watch tonight," Shane spoke after a few seconds of muteness. "If Andrea's not up to it."

Blinking, Paige looked away, lips curving up.

"Do you still consider it hazardous for Daryl and I to be in the same tent?" she directed to Rick.

"No. And it wasn't my place to make decisions for you based on what I think you'd find comfortable. If you trust Daryl, stay in his tent. It's good for you to have that level of comfort with someone anyway."

"Would that be alright?"

She didn't look at him, but Daryl could detect an unexpected meekness in her tone, so very opposite of the stubborn one she'd taken on when arguin' with him.

"Take some o' my blankets if y'a need."

Without a sign of acknowledgement, Paige set off toward his tent.

"Shane," Rick pestered once she was out of earshot, "how close did she come?"

Releasing a deep breath, Shane's grip on his shotgun loosened. Most notably, he refused to meet Daryl's eyes.

"Close _enough_. Rick, you gotta know I'd been keeping a good eye on her the entire time, but the bastard came outta nowhere and...I suddenly forgot how to hold a fucking pistol."

Rick studied his friend closely, pondering something.

But they were both unprepared for Daryl's statement.

"You ever let it get that close again and th'a walkers will be th'a least of y'er problems."

With that, he stomped off, too angry to feel the bullets of rain showering down on him.

His anger lessened considerably when he entered his tent to find Paige gathered inside three or four layers of blankets, lying on the side furthest from the tent flap.

Wipin' the droplets out of his eyes, Daryl zipped the flap and knelt down, eyes surveyin' her carefully.

Now that the realization she coulda died, truly sunk in, he found he had a difficult time knowin' where to start a conversation.

Paige only stared back at him, face blank except for the occasional shiver.

"I'ma shitty bodyguard," he tried. "Told ya this mornin' I'd keep ya safe, y'a nearly died by dinner time."

Instead of accusation, like he was expectin', Paige laughed, her body shaking beneath the covers.

"Don't take it personally, Daryl. The walker really did come out of nowhere. Which is dangerous when it sounds like a thousand footsteps are running over bleachers above you. Shane and I were heading back when the thunder first began. We thought we kept hearing movements so we stopped every so often. Earlier on, I managed to kill a walker from a sufficient enough distance to where Shane was assured of my close range abilities. Really, we were on our way back and being as responsible as we could about the situation."

Daryl eased his way down to a sitting position directly across from Paige. Again, he didn't have much idea on what to say. 'Specially since he felt partly t'a blame for her nearly dyin'.

"You gettin' my brother's blankets bloody w'it y'er t-shirt?"

Obviously, she wasn't expectin' t'a hear that, and internally, Daryl smacked himself on the head for such a stupid question.

"No," she answered steadily.

"No?"

"Are you really going to make me explain?"

"I dunno how the hell you're not gettin' the blankets dirty since y'er shirt was soaked in th'a blood."

"I'm not getting the blanket dirty because I'm not wearing a shirt right now."

"Oh."

"Yes," she nodded shamelessly. "These blankets aren't just to keep me warm. I have to defend my modesty somehow."

"Where's y'er shirt?"

"Christ, Daryl, do we really have to launch a full fledged investigation into where my shirt could be? It's not on me because I already foresaw you freaking out about me getting your blankets dirty. That's called courtesy. And I'm paying for it by sleeping in nothing but a bra when my body is attempting to conserve as much heat as possible. Satisfied?"

She nearly rose up from her position to scold him, but thought better of it at the last minute and settled back down into a sleepin' position.

They watched each other for a good five minutes, ignoring the attack of rain against the thin material of the tent. Well, Paige glared at him while Daryl studied her, tryin' t'a figure out how to begin a conversation that wouldn't make him sound like an idiot or an asshole.

But in order for that to happen, he knew he had to acknowledge some o' those feelings Andrea had talked to him about. Including the worry he had at the thought of her dyin' as well as his growin' attachment to her.

"It was close."

Her statement froze all the runaway thoughts bouncin' around in his head.

"Too close," she clarified when he didn't respond. "Close enough to where I wouldn't have minded you being there."

"I woulda been. But I wanted t'a give ya room. And I thought Shane woulda been able t'a protect you."

"It really wasn't his fault," Paige reaffirmed, eyes sparkling with an unspoken emotion. "And I don't want this incident to make you feel like you have to watch my every move from now on. I froze out there too because I wasn't prepared. I shoot walkers from yards away through a scope, not the length of an arm with a handgun. It was a learning experience, yes. A dangerous one. But I'm still alive and better aware as a result. It never would have happened had Shane not taken me out there."

Daryl had a difficult time swallowin' the fact that she was thankful f'er his help despite nearly dyin'. And he wanted to voice as much, but he didn't want to make her angry. Not when she looked so tired and had survived yet again, another close call.

So, he finally decided on bein' honest.

"I'm glad y'er alright. I was worried about you."

If she was surprised at his words, she didn't show it. And for the moment, that soothed Daryl down considerably.

"Glad you're alright too," she agreed, half smiling at him. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. But I'm thinkin' maybe y'a need a lesson in detectin' when people are close to ya. Those cadets managed to sneak up on you and so did that walker. We can discuss some tips tomorrow on how t'a be better focused. 'Specially if y'er plannin' any more trips out by y'erself."

"Adley and Lawrence sneaking up on me were a different matter than the walker. I was lost in my thoughts when they found me. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. Something I'm quite efficient at doing so on normal circumstances. At the time, I was focused on escaping and how to ration out what food and water I had."

Understanding her explanation from personal experience, Daryl gathered, "You were lost in thought when th'a walker attacked?"

"No...," she delicately worded, blinking a few times, "at least, not exactly."

Puzzled, he waited for her to explain.

"I was distracted."

"Ain't that the same as thinkin' about somethin' too long?"

"No."

"Then what the hell were you distracted by?"

Exhaling, Paige shifted deeper into the blankets, decidin' on how to best answer.

In the end, she settled for blunt and honest.

"Shane kissed me."

* * *

**Ha! Well, I did say someone was going to be kissed. And before anyone freaks out, I do have a reason Shane did what he did. You just won't know until the next chapter. Actually, it's kind of easy to figure out if you think too much into it - like I do! Hope you enjoyed that. Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


	10. Only Human

**So, it's been about three months since I last updated. I apologize if you were attached to this story, but honestly, I'm only going to write when the inspiration is there. To force out a chapter if your mind isn't in the fandom, is hell. And I owe you guys thoughtful, action filled chapters. Not forced garbage. Short chapter, I know, but after nine chapters, we finally get to talking about feelings. Sorry if Daryl may seem OOC, but he's got to admit what he's feeling at some point since he's been avoiding it. Hopefully I did it somewhat gracefully. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 10 - Only Human**

To Paige's relief, Daryl didn't respond for a good ten seconds. And naively, she hoped it meant he'd be level headed enough not to say anything regarding Shane's actions. She felt bad enough for the incident as it was.

But alas, this brief silence was not meant to be, and now knowing the hunter, Paige really didn't expect anything less than some sort of outburst. Even though she momentarily had to pause and wonder why Daryl cared anyway.

"What the _**hell** _were you thinkin'?"

Blinking, Paige refrained from pulling herself up, still primly aware of the lack of shirt beneath the blankets.

"I didn't do it on purpose," she defended, keeping her voice soft and uncompromised. "And he kind of initiated it without any warning. One moment, he was telling me we needed to turn back, the next, he flew into my personal space. It was far below what a kiss should have been. Our lips just kind of smushed together."

"And the walker happened t'a interrupt?"

"While I was trying to detangle myself from him, yes."

Daryl's features turned indignant, and this only served to make Paige's heart beat faster.

"He was _forcin'_ ya to kiss him?"

"No," she denied carefully, recognizing the growing tension building not only inside the tent, but in Daryl's shoulders. "I don't think Shane was really aware of what he was doing, to be honest. And because of that, I didn't freak out. I can't exactly tell you what was going through my head, but I do know that he looked...very lonely. It was a look I'd seen on my own face numerous times before. He just wanted to have some sort of contact. Contact he hasn't had in a long time. I don't know his full story, but for that split second, I obliged. Has he lost anybody?"

"He's 'bout to lose sight in his left eye," Daryl threatened, moving to push himself to a standing position.

"Daryl!" Paige called, enunciating his name firmly. "Leave him alone."

"'Cause of him, y'a nearly died."

"Because of him, I shot that walker point blank in the skull. Because of him, my reflexes were trained properly enough that it saved my life. Now I don't know why Shane did what he did, hell, I don't even know why I'm telling you that he kissed me, but I am telling you to lay off him. Got it?"

Daryl aimed a fiercesome, glacial blue glare at her for a good few seconds, lips set in a tight scowl. He looked like he had a difficult time inhaling, only recognizable by the slight shaking in his jaw. And if the atmosphere would allow it, Paige was pretty sure steam would be sputtering off him in waves.

"Please," she repeated, allowing her steely tone to lessen somewhat. "Daryl, leave him alone."

"Y'a don't even know why he kissed ya. That's what pisses me off."

"And you do?"

She meant to ask this as if Daryl couldn't possibly have a reasonable answer, but to her surprise, he gave a jerky nod.

"Doesn't take much t'a figure out. But ya didn't hear this from me."

"Wait...am I about to hear you gossip?"

"Don't look so damned perky. I'm tellin' ya this so y'a know how stupid y'er decision to not let me break his nose, is."

Sobering up, Paige grabbed two handfuls of thick blanket and made sure to wrap it around her upper body firmly, arms ending up in a criss cross. But this concealment allowed her to finally rise into a sitting position, alert eyes studying Daryl cautiously.

"Why do you think he kissed me out there?"

"Cause y'er a substitute."

It hit Paige without warning. Directly in the gut. With frightening velocity, relating to perhaps a syringe breaking through a vein.

Hurt.

She almost laughed at the realization. The kiss really had meant nothing and Paige honestly thought she understood why he'd initiated it. In that way, she sympathized for him. He wanted the contact and she'd been there.

But Daryl spoke his statement with a harshness that while entirely unnecessary, she knew somehow to be truthful. And to think someone had used her in order to feel pleasure from a past conquest, truly did a number on her insides.

"Substitute for who?"

Her voice came out almost unrecognizable, it was so deep and unfocused.

This kept Daryl from diving into his explanation, instead, scouting her own features and finally understanding why her voice had shifted so rapidly.

"There's been...history 'tween Lori and Shane."

She nearly smiled, again, one of those annoyingly optimistic reactions to a really disappointing truth, at the precaution Daryl took in informing her of this news.

"Well...that's okay. Everyone gets a bit lonely."

"If ya accept that, then y'er not nearly as smart as I thought ya were."

"Alright, so I'm not okay with it," she confessed, knowing she couldn't take this personal. "But my understanding of his loneliness, stands."

"Why?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, Daryl. You know loneliness better than anyone else here. Shane may not have gone about the best way curing what he was feeling, but he's only human. And at the moment, we're the minority. We can't afford to turn on each other just because of stupid affections that didn't mean anything."

She couldn't tell if her words calmed or angered him. But at this point, she didn't really much care. If he was going to have a fit over such an insignificant action, she'd let him without dragging her down in the process. Her primary focus was to bring heat back into her body.

"Damn it," he muttered.

She didn't question his curse, only eying him fatiguely from beneath the blankets.

The silence was near punishing, but she refused to cave to it. He wasn't going to make her feel any more guilty than she already did for allowing herself to be a substitute for Rick's wife.

"Don't put y'er trust in Shane."

"Noted, Daryl."

"I'm serious."

"Also noted. You're using your serious voice."

"You makin' fun of me?"

"No," she denied, hiding a grin beneath the blanket.

Once he realized she was joking, his anger appeared to ebb away somewhat.

"You know y'er a magnet f'er danger, right?" he confirmed, making his way into a sitting position.

"I'm incapable of living an ordinary life. I probably should have told you that beforehand," Paige apologized. "Certainly might make you reconsider helping me."

"Don't need to reconsider. Who the hell would be able to handle ya, then?"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were actually sounding...fond of me," she teased.

To her surprise, he didn't argue the statement. Actually, he didn't even meet her eyes, suddenly glancing around the tent.

"Sorry. Too much?"

He craned his neck back to look at her, eyes squinted. He inhaled and exhaled through his nose, but she detected tension with each motion, particularly in the muscles of his throat.

"Fond ain't exactly the word I'm lookin' for," he admitted.

"I've been told I have a unique vocabulary. Need some help?"

"Don't need nothin' fancy for what I wanna say. Truth is...I like ya."

Paige understood this was a big deal for him to admit and the fact that he maintained eye contact throughout the declaration, alerted her to the importance of this moment. And to not ruin it by saying something.

Which she really seemed incapable of doing.

"I like you too," she replied. "Even when I want to punch you. Especially when I want to punch you. Because it reminds me that I can still feel despite the amount of times I've been content with being numb."

"You really alright with admittin' that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" she inquired. "I trust you to not use it against me. And it's true."

His gaze was unreadable, as it was most of the time, but she felt at ease holding it. Normally, revealing such personal information about the state of her emotions, made her queasy. If the wrong person heard it, they could do serious damage.

But Paige had trusted Daryl the moment he first saved her life. From then on, the relationship, despite its frustrations, grew stronger, even if she wasn't always sure what it was he felt. And it'd been an entirely too long of a time since that sort of relationship had been hers.

"I-."

"You don't have to say anything," she inserted helpfully. "I get that your emotions are wound tighter than mine. Men aren't exactly known for speaking what they're feeling. I'm content with knowing that you like me."

"Usually don't say anythin'," he agreed. "This time's different, though. Death ain't predictable and you ain't exactly normal."

"I try."

"Don't. Y'er doin' fine th'a way ya are."

"So what do you mean I'm not normal?"

He struggled with his next words, that much was obvious. But his dedication to ushering them out, made her almost excited in hearing them.

"I don't usually...care f'er people other than myself. Y'er doin' somethin' right 'cause I keep wantin' t'a save y'er life. Ain't normal, what's happenin' here. But I'd take it over fendin' for myself."

Paige kept her mouth tight, curious as to why his statement sent warm, heady tingles from her tummy up to her head.

"You...enjoy my companionship?" she tested.

"Y'a ain't a dog," he gruffed. "Don't know what I enjoy 'bout ya, just know that I do."

Her lips twitched up, but she made sure to keep it hidden behind the blanket.

"Well, thank you, Daryl. I don't think I've ever quite been complimented the way you just did, but I'm grateful for it regardless."

He only grunted, avoiding her eyes again.

At this point, she was sure his emotions were buried inside him once more. What he'd said, no matter how nonchalantly, was kind of a big deal. He wouldn't let them show for long.

But he added one last comment that brushed over a conversation they were sure to have again in the future.

"I don't like you bein' alone with Shane. Need t'a hunt, find me."

Instead of pointing out what she thought it sounded like, Paige nodded in agreement. Something told her there didn't lay much room for arguing anyway.

Seconds later and exhaustion began to fully anchor her body into the sleeping bag.

"If you wake up before me," she groggily mentioned, slipping further into the incoming warmth, "could you give Carol my t-shirt and bra?"

"I don't touch anythin' beneath shirts and jeans."

"It's not going to bite you," she tiredly scolded.

He didn't respond and Paige sighed. She really didn't want to walk around the whole day tomorrow with no support. In this, her solution presented itself.

"Fine. But if it's a cold morning, Shane will probably enjoy the view."

When he responded, she smiled.

"Playin' dirty already?"

"Just this once," she promised.

And that was the last statement to pass her lips before she fell into a comfortable sleep.

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**Let me know your thoughts in a review!**


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